THE  LIBRARY 

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THE  UNIVERSITY 
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THE    EXILES. 


THE     EXILES. 


BY      TALYI. 

AUTHOR  OF    "HELOISE,"    "THE   LITERATURE   OF  THE   SCLAVIC 
NATIONS,"  ETC. 


"After  life's  fitful  fever  they  sleep  well." 


|0rlt: 

G.   P.    PUTNAM    &    CO.,    10   PARK    PLACE. 


M.DCCC.LIII. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1853, 
In  tlic  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


BILLIN  &  BKOTHIBS,  Printers  and  Stereotype™,  -20  North  William  street,  N".  Y. 


PREFACE 

WHICH  EVERY  ONE  IS  DESIRED  TO  READ. 


TIST  sending  these  pages  into  the  world,  I  would  wish, 
*  before  everything  else,  to  guard  myself  against  the 
supposition  that,  in  the  background  on  which  their 
contents  are  drawn,  I  have  intended  to  give  a  picture 
of  North  America.  As  such,  my  book  would  be  in 
the  highest  degree  imperfect.  It  is  not  a  picture  of 
America  which  I  would  here  unroll  before  my  readers, 
but  American  pictures,  as,  in  my  experience  of  many 
years,  I  have  beheld  them. 

If  I  bring  before  the  reader,  in  succession,  the  child 
of  the  world  and  the  pious  maiden,  the  cavalier  and 
the  farmer,  the  social  philanthropist  and  the  Pharisee, 
and  other  truly  national  characters;  if  I  portray,  in 
single  features,  the  social  relations  of  the  opposite 
sexes  and  the  various  stages  of  life,  and  the  influence 
which  the  methodism  of  the  East  exerts  over  the 
religious  barrenness  of  the  West — I  am  yet  far  from 
wishing  to  insinuate  that  these  characters  and  relations 
are  the  exclusive  types  of  society  as  it  has  formed 
itself  in  the  North- American  Eepublic.  These  types 
exist,  on  the  contrary,  in  such  infinite  gradations,  and 
in  such  a  mixture  of  colours,  of  which  one  imper- 

5&  -   i 


vi  PREFACE. 

ceptibly  runs  into  the  other,  that  here,  as  elsewhere, 
the  stamp  of  nationality  is  not  unfrequently  lost  in 
that  of  humanity.  The  pictures  which  I  lay  before 
the  reader  are  certainly  truthful,  but  he  must  not 
forget  that  many  other  equally  truthful  pictures, 
which  had  the  same  right  to  be  exhibited  as  these, 
have  remained  unexhibited. 

In  particular,  I  have  purposely  refrained  from 
touching  upon  politics,  except  where  it  was  unavoid- 
able. 

To  my  American  readers  I  would  simply  remark, 
in  explanation  of  such  detailed  descriptions  and  de- 
lineations as  may  seem  to  them  superfluous,  that  this 
book  was  written  originally  for  Germans.  I  would 
also  caution  them,  in  case  they  should  find  the  charac- 
ters with  which  they  will  meet,  drawn  from  life,  and 
perhaps  think  that  here  and  there  they  recognise  an 
acquaintance,  against  accusing  me,  in  consequence,  of 
personality.  I  acknowledge  no  one  of  the  characters 
drawn  in  the  following  pages  to  be  the  portrait  of  a 
particular  person,  nor  any  of  the  events  pictured 
in  them  as  the  description  of  any  scene  actually 
experienced.  In  the  conception  and  delineation  of 
these  characters  and  scenes,  inasmuch  as  they  bear 
the  impress  of  nationality,  the  eye  and  hand  of  the 
European  will  hardly  be  mistaken ;  but  only  a  one- 
sided national  pride,  only  a  limited  popular  vanity, 
can  prevent  the  reader  from  also  recognising  in  them 
the  heart  which  beats  for  the  free  native  land  of  the 
dearest  which  it  possesses  on  earth,  and  the  home 
of  its  voluntary  adoption. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTEE  I. 

GUARDIAN  AND   WAHD, 


CHAPTEE  IL 
THE  VOYAGE, 24 

CHAPTEE  III. 
THE  ARRIVAL, 40 

CHAPTEE  IV. 
ALONZO  AND  HIS  FAMILY, 57 

CHAPTEE  V. 
STILL-LIFE, 65 

CHAPTEE  VI. 
A  NEW  LIFE, 77 

CHAPTEE  VII. 
FAMILY-SCENES, 93 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 
FATHEB  AND  DAUGHTERS, 102 

CHAPTEE  IX. 
THE  SISTERS, 115 

CHAPTEE  X. 
NEW  ACQUAINTANCES, 181 


vili  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XI. 

PAOB 

STOR«Y  WEATHER, 150 

OHAPTEE  XII. 
THE  VOLCANO  is  WORKING, 159 

CHAPTEE  XIII. 
THE  ERUPTION  OF  THE  VOLCANO, 179 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
THE  FLIGHT, 202 

CHAPTER  XV. 
NEW-ENGLAND  SKETCHES, 216 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
NEW-ENGLAND  SKETCHES  CONTINUED, 287 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
THE  LETTER, ^.        ....     255 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
THE  END  OF  THE  STORY,  AND  TWO  MORE  LETTERS,      ....    270 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
THE  HAVEN, 288 

CHAPTER  XX. 
TRAVELLING-SCENES, 308 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
DOMESTIC  AFFAIRS, 830 


CHAPTER  XXII. 
THE  VISIT, 849 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
'I'm:  SPRINGING  UP  OF  THE  SEED, 868 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 
CONCLUSION, 


THE    EIILES 


CHAPTER  I. 

GUARDIAN     AND    WARD. 

THE  notary  put  up  his  papers,  arose,  and,  with  ceremo- 
nious politeness,  congratulated  Miss  Osten  upon  her 
entrance  into  a  new  period  of  her  life.  For  he  had  just — 
nearly  two  years  later  than  her  years  admitted  of  it — declared 
her  legally  of  age.  He  added  the  wish  that  her  property 
might  prosper  as  well  under  her  own  management,  as  under 
that  of  her  guardian — for  he  had  to-day  had  the  opportunity 
of  comparing  its  present  large  amount  to  the  much  smaller 
sum  which  was  left  to  Clotilde  when  her  father  died,  three 
years  before,  and  the  present  orderly  state  of  her  affairs  to 
the  unhinged,  uncertain  character  which  they  bore  at  that 
time.  He  then  bowed,  and  left  the  room. 

Clotilde,  a  tall,  slender  figure,  in  the  blooming  freshness  of 
youth,  over  whose  features,  so  full  of  soul,  there  hung  a  cloud 
of  quiet  sadness,  and  her  former  guardian,  Baron  Sassen, 
remained  buried,  long  after  the  door  had  closed  upon  the 
lawyer,  in  deep,  thoughtful  silence.  Before  them  stood  a  table 
on  which  rolls  of  gold-pieces  were  spread  out,  and  valuable 
government  bonds  and  documents  arranged  in  packages. 


2  THE   EXILES. 

But  it  could  easily  be  seen  that  it  was  by  no  means  money 
and  its  value  that  occupied  the  minds  of  both. 

The  Baron  was  a  man  of  middle  age — portly,  indeed,  de- 
cidedly distingue  in  his  appearance,  with  a  noble,  strongly- 
marked  cast  of  features.  He  was  the  first  to  break  the 
silence,  and  the  tone  of  his  sonorous,  manly  voice,  was  unu- 
sually gentle,  as  he  said  : 

"  Clotilde,  you  have  your  will  now.  Your  estates  have 
been  turned  into  ready  money;  twenty  thousand  thalers  in  gold 
lie  here  before  you,  there  as  much  again  in  bonds  and  bills  of 
exchange,  which  can  at  any  moment  be  changed  into  drafts 
on  any  commercial  house,  the  place  for  which  it  remains  for 
you  to  designate.  Will  you  not  speak  now  ?  Will  you  still 
refuse  your  confidence  to  your  long-tried  friend,  the  friend 
to  whom  your  father  himself  has  directed  you  ?" 

"My  confidence?"  replied  Clotilde  ;  "who  deserves  it 
more,  who  has  more  right  to  possess  it,  than  you,  my  dear 
friend  ?  And  yet,"  she  added,  with  a  sigh,  "  in  this  one  case 
I  fear  your  censure;  but  still — I  feel  so  sure  that  I  am  doing 
right." 

"Explain  yourself,"  said  the  Baron,  urgently.  There 
was  something  of  irritation  in  his  voice,  as  he  continued  : 
"  you  must  confess  that  I  have  a  right  to  demand  an  ex- 
planation of  the  apparent  contradictions  in  your  conduct. 
Two  full  years  have  not  yet  passed,  since,  on  your  twenty- 
first  birth-day,  you  saw  me  willing  to  lay  down  the  office 
which  my  excellent  friend  had  intrusted  to  me  four  years 
ago,  and  to  render  up  an  account  to  you  of  the  administration 
of  your  property.  But  you  would  hear  nothing  of  it.  You 
asked  me,  as  a  friendly  favour,  to  continue  the  superintend- 
ance  of  affairs  unfamiliar  and  burdensome  to  you  ;  and  God 
knows  whether  I  appreciated  the  happiness  of  still  being 
allowed  to  serve  you. 

"  From  that  time  I  was  your  man  of  business,  Clotilde, 
your  faithful  steward,  no  longer  your  guardian.  I  am  con- 


GUARDIAN    AND   WARD.     •  3 

scious  that  you  can  accuse  me  of  no  presumption  ;  I  have 
paid  to  you  large  sums  and  small— even  three  months  ago, 
when  you  went  to  the  capital,  those  two  thousand  thalers — 
without  a  question  as  to  what  you  needed  them  for — though 
I  did  on  that  one  occasion,  take  the  liberty  of  an  older  friend, 
aud  warn  you  urgently,  not  to  let  your  tender  heart  be  abused 
in  acts  of  charity — for  it  was  to  such  a  use  that  I  expected 
that  sum,  or  at  least  a  part  of  it,  to  be  put.  You  can 
therefore  judge,  Clotilde,  how  astonished  I  was,  how  hurt  I 
felt,  when,  four  weeks  ago,  I  received  a  letter  from  you  from 
the  capital,  in  which  you  commission  me  to  sell  at  auction, 
without  delay,  your  house — your  paternal  roof,  Clotilde — 
as  well  as  the  other  real  estate  in  which  I  had  profitably 
and  safely  invested  your  property,  and  to  call  in  your  out- 
standing capital  so  as  to  turn  it  into  drafts,  about  which  you 
promised  to  give  me  further  directions. 

"  My  letter,  full  of  surprise,  full  of  entreaties  for  an  ex- 
planation, has  remained  unanswered.  I  have  executed  your 
commission — your  property  has  been  made  as  disposable  as 
you  can  wish  for.  But  now  I  beg  you  to  reward  this  resig- 
nation to  your  will,  in  the  extent  of  which  I  have  almost  hurt 
my  own  conscience,  by  taking  back  this  unjust  mistrust." 

Clotilde  had  listened  to  the  last  part  of  her  guardian's 
long  speech  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground.  "  Perhaps," 
she  now  said,  with  an  embarrassed  smile,  "  perhaps,  my  hon- 
oured friend,  I  shall  put  you  upon  the  track,  if  I  ask  you  to 
give  me,  instead  of  these  Prussian  government  bonds,  a 
letter  of  credit  to  one  or  the  other  house  in  New  York  or 
Philadelphia." 

The  Baron's  inquiring  glance  was  so  severe  and  discoura- 
ging, that  Clotilde  continued  with  increased  confusion  : 

"  You  know  that  Dr.  Stellmann,  who  married  my  earliest 
friend,  thinks  of  emigrating  to  America  as  soon  as  the  packets 
begin  to  sail  again.  They  are  kind,  pleasant  people.  I  in- 
tend to  join  them.  For  I,  too,"  she  added,  wita  a  forced 


4  THE   EXILES. 

smile,  "  am,  in  my  way,  '  weary  of  Europe,'  and  hope,  after 
withering  away  here  for  the  past  few  years,  like  everything 
else,  myself  to  spring  up  again,  abroad,  in  that  fresh  soil, 
fanned  by  the  enlivening  breath  of  Freedom,  to  a  new  fresh 
life." 

Grief  and  anger  had,  while  she  was  speaking,  been  pictured 
in  her  friend's  face.  "  Can  it  be  possible  !"  he  cried  ;  "  you, 
too,  infected  by  that  malignant  fever  of  the  present  age  ? 
Even  your  heart,  Clotilde,  which  I  have  always  looked  upon 
as  the  seat  of  the  noblest,  most  retiring  German  woman- 
liness— even  your  clear,  cultivated  mind,  penetrated  by  the 
unfortunate  emancipation-mania  of  our  day  !  What  will  you 
do  in  Wisconsin,  of  whose  backwoods  and  their  eternal  liberty 
that  visionary  dreams  ?  If,  in  the  years  he  spent  at  the 
university,  he  had  attended  to  his  medical  studies,  or  learned 
any  other  useful  thing,  instead  of  brooding  over  unripe  plans 
of  government-reform,  he  would  not  be  in  want  of  employ- 
ment here.  But  let  him  go.  He  may  and  will  work  his 
way.  But  you,  Clotilde  !  Would  you  help  him  root  out  the 
backwoods  ?  Would  you  perhaps  found,  with  your  treasures, 
a  colony  in  the  land  of  freedom,  for  political  fugitives,  who 
are  to  fatten  the  soil  with  their  bloody  theories,  and  build  up 
a  new  government  on  the  foundation  of  their  school-boy 
wisdom  ?  Do  you  not  know  that  woman's  dignity,  that 
morality  has  root  only  where  civilization  prevails  ?  Do  you 
perhaps  wish  to  spread  these  in  the  prairies  by  lecturing  ?" 

This  bitter  burst  of  unjust  anger  showed  Clotilde  only  too 
plainly,  how  much  she  had  bffended  and  hurt  her  friend  by 
the  secresy  of  her  plans. 

"  My  intentions  are  by  no  means  so  adventurous,"  she 
calmly  replied.  "I  expect  there  to  fulfil  that  which  you 
German  men*  like  to  look  upon  as  our  only  mission,  that  is, 
to  superintend  and  take  part  in  the  affairs  of  a  household,  as 
well  as  I  could  have  done  it  in  my  native  land.  Indeed,  as 
things  have  turned  out,  far  better;  and  only  there.  For,  let 


GUARDIAN   AND   WARD,  5 

me  confess  it  to  you,  my  much^honoured  friend,  Dr.  Stell- 
manii  and  Henrietta  will  not  be  my  only  companions — -I  am 
betrothed!" 

Clotilde  kept  her  eyes  firmly  fixed  on  the  ground  while 
she  was  pronouncing  the  last  words.  Thus  she  did  hot  see 
that  a  deadly  pallor  spread  over  her  friend's  face,  and  that, 
through  the  immense  exertion  of  manfully  crushing  down  the 
agony  which  went  through  his  heart  like  a  dagger,  a  cold 
sweat  started  from  his  noble  brow. 

There  was  the  silence  of  death  in  the  room  for  some 
minutes.  At  length  the  Baron  said,  in  a  hollow  voice  : 
"  Proceed  I" 

"  You  know  that  of  the  political  prisoners,  who,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  Frankfort  conspiracy,*  were,  in  our  principality 
also,  condemned  to  the  fortress,  two  have  recently  had  their 
term  of  imprisonment  considerably  shortened  by  the  mercy — 
or  rather  a  caprice — of  the  government.  But  it  seems  that 
six  years  of  confinement  had  still  left  in  them  too  much 
dangerous  matter  for  their  own  'country.  There  was  joined 
to  their  liberation  the  condition  of  a  so-called  voluntary 
exile.  One  of  these  was  Hubert,  whom  you  may  remember  ; 
he  was  my  dear  father's  favourite  scholar,  and  had  only  just 
passed  a  brilliant  examination,  when,  one  night,  he  was 
arrested  and  led  off  for  trial.  To  him,  my  friend,  I  am 
betrothed  ;  and  as  his  wife,  I  will  go  with  him  into  exile,  to 
America." 

The  Baron  had,  meanwhile,  by  great  exertion,  succeeded 
in  collecting  himself.  "  I  knew  Hubert,"  he  said,  "  a  noble 
youth,  more  led  than  leading  astray.  But  strange,  strange 
indeed,"  he  added,  passing  his  hand  over  his  forehead  and 
eyes,  as  if  trying  to  bring  back  some  recollection — "  strange, 
that  your  father  never  told  me  of  this.  By  heaven  !  Your 
father  thought  you  free — he  would  not — and  yet,  Clotilde, 

*  Known  under  the  name  of  •'  Das  Frankfurter  Attentat" 


6  THE   EXILES. 

you  must  have  engaged  yourself  to  him  six  years  ago — for  it 
is  as  long  as  that  since  Hubert  was  arrested." 

"  I  will  tell  you  all.  I  must  go  back  very  far.  I  was 
sixteen  years  old,  when  I  became  acquainted  with  Hubert, 
who  was  just  in  the  last  year  of  his  course.  We  professor's 
daughters,  you  know,  are  spoiled  girls.  If  Nature  has  only 
been  a  little  kind  to  us,  we  see  ourselves  surrounded  by  a 
host  of  young  admirers  ;  for  to  one  young  lady  in  our  circles, 
there  are  at  least  ten  hale  and  hearty  young  men.  And  I, 
the  only  daughter  of  tender,  loving  parents,  whose  means 
admitted  their  following  their  hospitable  inclinations,  and 
keeping  open  house,  was  particularly  spoiled,  and  full  of  pre- 
tensions, and  my  vain  heart  found  no  small  pleasure  in  the 
circumstance  that  the  students,  whose  coarse  and  awkward 
manners  often  annoyed  me,  were  joined  in  their  admiration  by 
the  young  officers  of  the  garrison,  whose  outward  refinement, 
at  least,  won  my  approval.  Still  I  had,  from  the  first, 
sufficient  judgment  to  distinguish  Hubert  from  the  crowd, 
and  feel  flattered  by  his  'attentions.  My  good  mother 
often  praised  him,  as  the  most  modest  and  most  intelligent 
of  our  visitors,  and  my  father  thought  he  might  be  proud  of 
this  scholar,  and  called  the  state  happy  which  trained  up 
such  servants — so  high-minded,  and  so  deeply  and  thoroughly 
cultivated." 

"  My  poor  friend  !"  said  the  Baron,  with  a  bitter  smile, 
"  only  his  uncommon  goodness  of  heart  could  deceive  a  judg- 
ment so  clear  as  his  1" 

"  I,  too,"  continued  Clotilde,  hurt  by  his  injustice,  and  en- 
couraged by  it  to  speak  more  decidedly,  "  I,  too,  felt  Hubert's 
great  worth,  and — let  me  say  it  freely — never  yet  had  any 
man  made  so  agreeable  an  impression  upon  me.  But  I  was 
young  and  vain.  That  which  later  and  more  matured 
feelings  recognised  as  signs  of  a  deep,  true  love — his  slight 
approaches  iu  society,  his  reserve  in  the  common  gallant  in- 
tercourse of  yonn-r  people — seemed  to  me  coolness,  indecision. 


GUARDIAN   AND   WARD.  7 

The  attentions  which  he  paid  me  in  the  domestic  circle  were 
not  exclusive  enough  for  me  ;  it  vexed  my  silly  heart  that  I 
had  to  divide  them  with  my  venerable  mother  ;  and  the  fact 
that  Hubert,  over  a  learned  conversation  with  my  father, 
absorbed  with  him  in  the  mutual  reflection  upon  the  oppressed 
state  of  his  country,  often  seemed  to  forget  my  presence 
entirely,  sometimes  irritated  me  so  much,  that  I  showed  the 
first  young  man  that  entered  the  room,  a  kindness  of  which 
my  heart  knew  nothing  ;  and  so,  without  knowing  what  I 
did,  flattered  vanity  in  some,  and  in  others,  perhaps,  with 
wicked  thoughtlessness,  even  wakened  feelings  that  were  still 
slumbering." 

"  You  -judge  yourself  too  harshly,  Clotilde  ;  I  knew  you 
then,  as  I  do  now.  Often,  while  you  probably  reckoned  me, 
in  compliment  to  my  thirty  years,  among  '  the  old  people,'  I 
have  gazed  with  delight  upon  you,  the  opening  bud.  You 
were  never  a  coquette  !" 

"  A  coquette  ?  No  ;  a  coquette  is  cold  and  heartless  ! 
But — oh  !  the  heart  is  a  dark  abyss  !  My  means  of  rousing 
Hubert's  feelings  more  effectually,  seemed  to  me  the  more  in- 
nocent, that  they  never  failed.  For  my  attention  to  others 
always  irritated  him  very  much,  and  soon  brought  about  a 
full,  warm  declaration  on  his  side  ;  so  full,  so  warm,  that  even 
the  most  spoiled  heart  must  be  satisfied.  Mine  trembled 
with  joy,  but  the  very  consciousness  that  I  had  in  fact  myself 
called  forth  his  Confession,  made  me  more  reserved  than  it 
was  really  in  my  nature  to  be.  I  told  him  that  I  was  too 
young  yet  to  have  anything  to  do  with  things  so  important, 
and  he  seemed  willing  to  be  satisfied  with  the  answer  ;  he 
did  not  urge  me,  and  I  saw  plainly  that  he  was  not  very 
desirous  for  our  speedy  union  at  least,  and  that  he  wished  in 
no  way  to  bind  me." 

Clot  Lie  stopped.  "  Go  on  !"  said  the  Baron,  with  ill- 
restrained  impatience. 

"  I  would  willingly,  my  dear  friend,  spare  you  these  de- 


8  THE   EXILES. 

tails,  if  they  were  not  necessary  to  the  explanation  of  what 
follows.  At  this  time  there  were  again  serious  disturbances 
in  Germany,  and  the  suspicious  eyes  of  the  government  were 
turned  in  all  directions.  I  often  heard  my  father,  who,  you 
know,  was  a  decided  liberal,  warning  Hubert  against  incau- 
tious actions,  and  holding  up  before  him  the  criminality  of 
immature  enterprises,  by  which  just  those  sacrifice  themselves 
vainly  for  their  country,  who  ought  to  be  its  champions  at 
the  right  hour.  Hubert  appeared  to  agree  with  him,  but  his 
friendship  with  several  individuals,  of  whom  the  government 
was  particularly  watchful,  troubled  my  father.  In  this  state 
of  things  my  seventeenth  birthday  drew  near.  It  was  at 
the  end  of  April,  just  at  the  time  when  the  outbreak  in 
Frankfort,  and  the  arrests  in  various  places  which  followed 
it,  gave  much  cause  for  comment.  My  birthday  had  always 
been  celebrated  by  some  little  domestic  festival.  But  as  it 
happened  that  at  the  close  of  this  winter  the  last  of  our  sub- 
scription-balls was  to  take  place  on  that  night,  my  mother 
did  not  wish  to  spoil  it  by  a  party  at  our  house,  and  I  was 
willing,  as  I  was  passionately  fond  of  dancing,  to  take  the  ball 
as  a  birthday-celebration.  Early  in  the  morning  came  my 
female  friends  and  many  young  gentlemen  with  wreaths  and 
bouquets.  Hubert  was  the  only  one  who  did  not  make  his 
appearance".  Every  time  the  door  opened  I  hoped  to  see 
him  enter,  and  when  the  visiting  hours  were  passed,  and  the 
evening  drew  near,  I  was  excited  to  the  highest  degree.  At 
length,  as  we  were  just  about  to  dress  for  the  ball,  at  an 
hour  when  my  mother  never  received  calls,  Hubert  was  an- 
nounced. '  Would  you  like  to  see  him  ?'  asked  my  mother. 
'  It  will  be  time  enough  this  evening,'  I  answered,  full  of 
vexation ;  '  if  he  had  been  in  a  hurry  with  his  congratulations, 
he  would  have  taken  the  trouble  to  come  sooner.'  My 
mother  smiled.  '  Tell  him,  then,'  she  said  to  the  servant, 
1  that  we  are  just  about  to  dress,  but  that  we  hope  to  see  him 
at  the  ball.'  This  late  visit  exasperated  me  still  more;  I  had 


GUARDIAN   AND   WARD.  9 

endeavoured  to  excuse  his  staying  away  by  illness,  absence 
from  town,  mistaking  of  the  day.  Why  did  he  come  to  make 
a  ceremonious  call,  at  an  hour  when  he  knew  I  could  not  see 
him? 

"  I  entered  the  saloon  highly  excited,  and,  besides  this, 
in  the  vain  consciousness  of  being  most  elegantly  and  becom- 
ingly dressed.  He  was  standing  at  the  door.  I  did  not  look 
at  him,  but  I  felt  his  searching,  uneasy  glance.  To  my  vexa- 
tion, I  had  been  obliged  to  give  away  all  my  dances  in  the 
morning.  For  a  long  time,  in  the  constant  expectation  of 
seeing  him,  I  had  managed,  by  artful  evasions,  to  reserve  one 
or  the  other  favourite  dance,  but  at  length,  full  of  anger  at  his 
delay,  had  engaged  myself  for  these  too.  In  such  a  dance- 
loving  circle  as  ours,  cotillion  followed  cotillion,  one  waltz 
another,  in  rapid  succession  ;  it  was  only  during  the  dances, 
or  at  the  end,  at  supper,  that  any  conversation  could  be 
thought  of.  Hubert  came  immediately  to  ask  me  for  the 
first  dance.  He  looked  disturbed — fool  that  I  was,  I  imagined 
it  was  my  displeasure  that  had  moved  him  so.  I  told  him, 
scornfully,  that  I  was  engaged  for  the  whole  evening.  He 
gave  me  a  startled  look,  and  was  about  to  speak,  when  my 
partner,  a  dashing  lieutenant,  approached  me,  and  I  went  with 
him  to  take  my  place  in  the  dance.  As  I  flew  past  Hubert 
in  the  waltz,  I  noticed  with  a  beating  heart  how 'uneasily  his 
eyes  followed  me.  I  had  hardly  reached  my  seat  again,  when 
he  came  up  to  me,  and  politely  asked  my  partner's  permission 
to  take  a  turn  with  me.  You  know  perhaps  that  the  great 
superfluity  of  gentlemen  at  our  balls  has  given  rise  to  these 
extra-turns,  in  which  those  who  have  not  succeeded  in  se- 
curing to  themselves  partners  for  the  evening,  borrow, 
as  it  were,  the  lady  for  a  short  time.  My  partner  bowed, 
but  I  said:  '  Mr.  Hubert,  my  mother  does  not  wish  me 
to  dance  these  extra-turns  ;  she  fears  theyx  might  exert 
me  too  much.'  He  stepped  back  and  said,  hastily,  with  a 
sad,  reproachful  glance,  '  Will  you  then  at  least  grant  me 
1* 


10  THE  EXILES. 

a  few  moments  after  the  dance  ?'  '  Certainly,'  I  replied, 
smiling,  '  if  there  is  time.'  The  lieutenant  led  me,  after  the 
dance,  to  my  seat,  at  the  other  end  of  the  hall,  and,  placing 
himself  before  me,  entertained  me  with  shallow  compliments. 
I  seemed  to  be  sitting  on  coals.  Now  I  saw  Hubert  coming 
towards  me.  At  that  moment  a  lady  stopped  him;  and  by 
the  time  that  he  had  freed  himself  from  her,  the  music 
struck  up  anew,  and  my  partner  came  to  seek  me.  I  had 
already  risen,  had  given  him  my  hand,  when  Hubert 
stepped  up  to  me.  '  It  is  too  late/  I  said,  laughing,  and 
left  him.  Once  more  I  met  his  look,  so  passionate,  so 
sad — once  more.  There  was  anger,  grief,  and  love — yes, 
deep,  fervent  love,  in  that  urgent,  burning  glance,  which, 
for  nearly  six  years,  has  haunted  me  in  my  sleep  and  in 
my  waking  hours.  When  I  again  looked  round  after  him 
during  the  dance,  he  had  disappeared.  I  have  never  seen 
him  since." 

Clotilde  hid  her  face  in  her  hands.  The  Baron  looked  at 
her  in  anxious  surprise.  "  Solve  this  riddle,  Clotilde,"  he 
said,  at  length. 

"  When  I  came  to  the  breakfast-table  the  next  morning," 
continued  Clotilde,  "  I  was  immediately  struck  by  the  sad 
expression  in  my  parents'  faces.  '  Only  think,'  said  my 
mother,  '  there  were  to  have  been  several  arrests  last  night. 
Most  of  those  implicated  have  escaped.  They  must  have 
been  warned.  But  our  poor  friend  Hubert  was  taken  just 
as  he  was  about  to  leave  the  city  in  disguise.' 

"'Impossible!'  I  cried,  utterly  confounded;  'he  was  at 
the  ball  last  evening.' 

"  '  That  is  just  what  surprises  me,'  replied  my  mother. 

'  His  two  friends,  Homer  and  Listau — you  know  them left 

town  already  last  night  at  six  o'clock,  with  extra-post;  and, 
I  hear,  have  taken  his  baggage  with  them.  They  were  in 
safety  before  the  police  discovered  any  thing.  But  what  in 
all  the  world  can  have  induced  him  to  wait  until  it  was  too 


GUARDIAN   AND   WARD.  11 

late  for  flight  ?     He  must  have  been  aware  of  the  danger, 
as  his  friends  knew  it.' 

"A  terrible  suspicion  crossed  my  heart.  Perhaps  he 
stayed  and  exposed  himself  to  this  danger,  in  order  to  see  — 
to  speak  to  me  once  more.  And  I  —  I  hardly  dared  to  think 
the  thought.  My  father  looked  very  sad.  '  I  hope  the  poor 
fellow  will  not  be  deeply  implicated,'  he  said,  with  a  sigh, 
'  or  he  may  have  to  pay  dearly  for  it.'  Towards  noon,  Hen- 
rietta came  in,  who  at  that  time  was  already  engaged  to 
Stellmann.  The  latter  had  heard  through  some  of  hfs 
fellow-students  that  Hubert  had  received,  the  day  before,  a 
letter  from  a  friend,  warning  him  that  evidence  had  been 
given  against  him,  Homer,  and  Listau,  before  the  court  in 
Frankfort,  and  that  our  ambassador  had  been  informed 
of  this,  in  order  to  give  notice  of  it  to  his  government.  A 
rapid  flight  was  instantly  resolved  upon.  That  could  hardly 
be  a  proof  of  guilt,  for  the  mere  examination  before  com- 
mittal, you  know,  often  lasts  for  years,  and  punishes  the 
innocent  with  equal  severity  as  the  guilty.  Hubert  and  a 
few  kind  friends  had,  with  much  trouble,  collected  some 
money  for  their  flight,  and  provided  disguises,  passports,  and 
a  carriage.  Hubert  was  here,  as  in  every  thing,  the  leader 
of  the  enterprise  —  the  support  of  all  who  took  a  part  in 
it.  But  when  all  was  ready,  he  declared  that  he  had  still 
some  necessary  business  to  attend  to.  He  soon  returned, 
however,  and  urged  his  friends,  who  were  waiting  the  time 
of  departure  with  anxious  impatience,  not  to  delay  a  moment 
longer;  that  he  could  not  go  with  them,  but  would  leave  the 
city  in  the  evening,  at  nine  o'clock  ^inj^iswuise  —  would  have 
a  horse  waiting  for  him  outside  the  ga^te,  and  join  them 
later.  No  entreaties  of  his  friends  could  shake  the  unfor- 
tunate man  in  his  purpose.  He  remained;  they  escaped  jn 


"  Henrietta  had  hardly  left,  when  a  boy,  the  son  of  Hu- 
bert's servant,  whom  he  had  already  once  or  twice  employed 


12  THE   EXILES. 

as  a  messenger,  brought  me  a  piece  of  paper,  hastily  closed 
with  a  wafer.  Read,"  continued  Clotilde,  as  she  took  from 
her  pocket-book  a  note,  whose  hurried  writing  was  almost 
effaced  by  tears,  and  the  paper  quite  yellow  with  age  and 
frequent  moistening. 

"  Clotilde,  you  are  displeased  with  me.  You  will  not  see 
me.  I  felt  that  I  could  not  go,  without  once  more  delighting 
my  eyes  by  the  sight  of  you.  But  I  wish  now  that  I  had 
gone  with  my  friends.  I  could  then  take  your  smile  with  me, 
as  a  last  sunbeam,  into  the  night  that  awaits  me.  Perhaps 
I  am  banished  for  ever.  Perhaps  I  shall  never  see  you 
again.  You  know  I  would  not  bind  you.  I  would  not 
build  up  the  tabernacle  of  your  life's  happiness  on  a  volcano. 
You  are  free,  Clotilde;  but  I — I  belong  to  thee  for  ever,  my 
beloved,  my  adored.  Think  sometimes  of  the  poor  exile, 
who  has  loved  thee  many  thousand  times  more  than  all  the 
gay  coxcombs  who  crown  thee  with  flowers.  Ask  your 
father  not  to  be  angry  with  me.  He  looks  at  the  times 
with  the  eye  of  an  old  man;  I,  as  one  who  can  and  will  still 
raise  up  new  structures.  I  am  going  to  England,  and  shall 
soon  write  to  him.  May  you  be  happy,  Clotilde  ;  I  can 
never  be  so  without  you.  HUBERT." 

Sassen  had  read  these  lines  not  without  emotion.  "  Poor 
Hubert!"  he  said,  "  but  now  he  is  rewarded." 

"  No  words  can  express  the  sensations  which  this  note 
called  forth  !  So  long  as  the  examination  lasted — this  long, 
painful  winding  through  the  torture-chambers  of  existence — 
so  long  I  was  full  of  hope ;  my  father  shook  his  head  doubt- 
fully: a  hundred  well-known  examples  spoke  of  the  terrible 
severity  of  the  punishment  for  political  offences.  Still,  youth 
hopes,  as  long  as  the  horrible  certainty  does  not  yawn  upon 
it,  and  therefore  it  is  happy.  Twenty  months  passed  away 
during  the  examination — twenty  months,  nearly  two  full  years! 


GUARDIAN    AND    WARD.  13 

A  short  space  of  time,  indeed,  when  you  compare  it  to  the  five 
or  six  years  of  other  courts.  Then  came  the  sentences;  that 
of  Hubert  was  ten  years — ten  years  of  confinement  in  the  fort- 
ress !  Oh !  Baron  Sassen,  do  your  governments  know  what 
they  are  about  ?  Tea  years,  or  for  life,  is  not  that  all  the 
same  ?  What  can  be  done  with  trees  that  are  rotten  with 
the  ever  damp  atmosphere  of  the  dungeon  ?  Can  fruits  still 
be  expected,  when  the  plant  has  already  in  its  bloom  been 
deprived  of  its  nourishing  soil  ?  Ten  years  !  The  heart 
of  a  girl  of  eighteen  can  hardly  realize  such  a  length  of 
time  ! 

"  This  terrible  sentence  fell  upon  me  like  a  clap  of  thunder. 
But  it  did  not  convince  me  of  Hubert's  guilt;  what  his  crime 
was,  only  the  secret  tribunal  could  know,  in  whose  privy 
chambers  the  documents  were  piled  up.  I  had  my  father's 
testimony,  which  I  could  not  doubt:  his  judgment  might  have 
erred,  but  his  hands  were  unstained.  And  was  it  not  for  my 
sake  that  he  was  a  captive  ?  for  my  sake  that  he  was  to  be  so 
long  without  the  golden  light  of  freedom  ?  Without  his  un- 
fortunate love  he  would  be  free  and  in  England. — Oh!  this 
love,  which  had  thrust  him  into  prison,  should,  I  resolved, 
brighten  the  night  of  this  prison  for  him  ! 

"  The  examinations,  you  know,  had  been  held  in  the  cap- 
ital. Before  Hubert,  with  several  others,  was  conveyed  to 
the  fortress,  he  was  allowed  to  arrange  his  affairs.  He  was 
permitted  to  see  his  father,  in  presence  of  a  government  offi- 
cer; they  suffered  him  to  write  letters,  to  receive  some,  of 
which  less  notice  was  taken.  During  this  short  period,  I  suc- 
ceeded in  conveying  to  him  a  note,  which  I  had  written  at 
the  first  news  of  his  condemnation,  in  which  I  told  him  that 
I  loved  him,  that  I  had  long  loved  him,  but  had  not  well  un- 
derstood my  heart — that  I  would  never  belong  to  another, 
but  remain  faithful  to  him  and  wait  for  him  ten  years.  This 
message  reached  him — and  then  the  prison-gates  were  closed 
upon  him,  and  four  long,  gloomy  years  have  crept  past  since 


14  THE   EXILES. 

that  time.     No  voice  from  his  prison-grave  has  ever  penetra- 
ted to  me  !" 

"  Did  your  father  know  of  this  step,  Clotilde  ?" 
"  My  parents  knew  about  Hubert's  letter;  not  about  mine. 
My  resolve  would  have  grieved  them,  and  without  reason. 
They  would  have  been  glad  to  keep  their  daughter  with  them 
ten  years  longer,  but  to  know  beforehand  that  it  must  be  so, 
would  have  troubled  them.  And  could  they,  kind  as  they 
were,  and  entirely  as  they  entered,  in  everything  else,  into 
the  feelings  of  my  young  heart,  sympathize  with  me  in  the 
one  point  which  was  lacerating  my  breast  ?  Could  they  share 
my  pangs  of  conscience  ?  They  called  it  accident,  fate,  Hu- 
bert's own  want  of  caution,  what  was  to  me,  on  his  part,  the 
full  measure  of  love — on  my  own,  the  giving  vent  to  a  child- 
ish, sinful  vanity.  For  I  had  learned  to  know  my  heart!  If 
I  had  consented  to  see  him  when  he  came  to  our  house  so 
late,  if  I  had  granted  his  request  at  the  ball,  he  would  not 
have  delayed  his  flight  in  order  to  write  me.  He  would  have 
escaped! 

"  My  father  induced  the  Faculty  to  intercede  for  Hubert 
with  the  king.  They  gave  him  the  most  brilliant  testimonials. 
'In  vain  !  He  was  all  the  more  dangerous  as  an  enemy.  My 
parents  at  length  looked  upon  his  case  as  hopeless,  and — 
trusted  to  Time  to  efface  his  image  in  me.  They  did  every 
thing  to  cheer  me,  to  divert  my  mind.  My  beloved  parents  1 
I  tried  to  be  happy,  so  as  to  make  them  happy.  Before  long 
Death  came,  and  took  first  my  mother,  then  my  father  !  I 
was  all  alone  now  in  this  world  1  One  half  of  my  heart  was 
in  the  grave,  the  other  was  shut  in  by  prison  walls.  You 
have  been  a  kind,  faithful  friend  to  me,  during  these  last  four 
years,  Baron  Sassen  !  You  know  how  a  black  thread  of 
mourning  has  wound  itself  through  this  whole  period  of  my 
life.  You  know  too,  how,  far  from  caressing  and  petting  my 
grief,  I  turned  now  to  one,  then  to  another  of  the  fair  bless- 
ings of  life,  to  cheer  myself.  Travels,  Art,  Literature,  acti- 


GUARDIAN  AND   WARD.  15 

vity  in  benevolent  institutions, — all  these  I  exhausted,  as  it 
were;  but  the  worm  was  in  my  heart. 

"  A  few  months  ago,  the  pardon  which  the  grand-duke  of 
Hesse  had  granted  to  those  who  had  been  condemned  by  his 
supreme  court,  first  wakened  in  me  the  thought,  whether  it 
were  not  possible  to  bring  about  a  similar  act  of  mercy  at  our 
court.  The  influence  of  a  certain  minister  was  well  known  ; 
I  had  met  his  wife  at  a  bathing-place — she  played,  and  was 
often  embarrassed  for  money.  Confused  thoughts  filled  my 
brain,  but  I  was  determined  to  act.  I  went  to  visit  a  friend 
at  the  capital.  I  requested  of  you  a  considerable  sum  of 
money.  With  disgust  I  employed  means  by  which  I  counte- 
nanced the  lowest  passions,  but  they  were  the  only  ones 
which  higher  powers  had  left  in  my  hands.  I  am  on  the  point 
of  leaving  my  country.  I  could,  without  danger,  lay  bare 
the  web  of  intrigue  by  which  it  was  made  possible  to  draw 
from  the  prince,  on  his  birthday,  the  favour  of  shortening  the 
time  of  Hubert's  imprisonment,  and,  so  as  not  to  make  it  too 
conspicuous,  that  of  one  of  his  fellow-prisoners,  by  six  years. 
But — I  have  given  my  word  to  be  silent  on  that  subject. 
And  what  good  would  it  do  ?  Would,  could  monarchs  be 
blind,  if  they  did  not  willingly  submit  to  have  the  bandage 
placed  on  their  eyes  ? 

"  And  now  I  had  gained  the  object  of  the  most  fervent, 
burning  wish  of  my  life. — Hubert  was  free  !  And  God  had 
showed  me  the  mercy  of  letting  me,  who  had  been  the  cause 
of  his  imprisonment,  be  also  the  means  of  his  liberation.  But 
a  hard  condition,  that  of  emigrating  to  America,  was  joined 
to  the  pardon  :  '  emigration  by  the  first  ship  that  would  sail 
from  Bremen  for  one  of  the  ports  of  the  United  States.'  The 
prisoners  were  asked  if  they  had  parents,  from  whom  they 
wished  to  take  leave.  As  they  both  answered  in  the  nega- 
tive, they  were  brought  to  Bremen  with  a  military  escort,  and 
there  put  under  guard  until  the  ship  should  sail.  They  were 
allowed  to  see  no  friends  otherwise  than  in  presence  of  a  police 


16  THE   EXILES. 

officer.  As  it  happened  that  so  early  in  the  season  there  was 
only  a  vessel  going  to  New  Orleans,  the  choice  was  left  them 
of  waiting  for  the  next  one,  which  was  bound  for  a  Northern 
port.  Hubert's  companion  chose  the  latter,  but  he  himself 
found  this  continued  guardianship  so  insupportable,  that  he 
preferred  to  land  in  New  Orleans.  The  vessel  sails  in  three 
days." 

"  Clotilde,  I  do  not  understand  you  yet.  You  have  not 
told  me  all.  You  said  you  were  engaged  to  be  married  to 
Hubert." 

"I  am  so.  As  soon  as  I  heard  that  Hubert  was  free,  I 
wrote  to  him.  I  reminded  him,  in  this  letter,  of  the  one  in 
which  I  had  told  him,  some  time  ago,  that  I  would  wait  for 
him  ten  years.  I  asked  him  to  tell  me  conscientiously, 
whether  he  was  still  as  desirous  that  I  should  become  his,  as 
he  had  been  six  years  ago,  before  his  long  seclusion  had 
perhaps  given  him  a  clearer  look  into  himself,  and  made  him 
understand  himself  better  ;  that  a  new  life  lay  before  him  ; 
he  could  go  to  meet  it  entirely  free  and  unchained  ;  that  his 
only  obligation  to  me  was  perfect  sincerity.  But  if  he  still 
loved  me  as  before,  if  he  still  believed  that  his  happiness  de- 
pended on  a  union  with  me — then  I  was  his  betrothed,  and 
as  he  was  not  allowed  to  come  to  me  and  take  me  home,  I 
would  join  him  in  Bremen." 

Sassen  listened  breathlessly.  A  dim  hope  rose  up  uncon- 
sciously within  him. 

"  When  this  letter  was  sent,"  Clotilde  went  on,  "  when  I 
had  done  everything  that  was  in  my  power  to  conciliate  the 
avenging  angel — oh  !  what  a  heavenly  quiet  came  over  me 
then  !  I  spent  some  days  in  a  blissful  state  of  calm  inward 
peace.  Without  impatience  I  awaited  his  answer  ;  I  knew 
he  would  tell  me  the  truth  ;  he  could  not  do  otherwise.  My 
letter  made  a  matter  of  conscience  of  his  doing  so,  and  if  he 
had  ceased  to  love  me,  one  expression  of  generosity — that  he 
would  not  take  me  from  my  country,  that  he  would  not  offer 


GUARDIAN   AND   WARD.  17 

me  an  exile's  hand,  that  my  sacrifice  was  too  heavy,  or  some- 
thing of  the  kind — would  be  enough  to  convince  me  of  it." 

"  Clotilde,"  Sassen  interrupted  her,  "  you  do  not  lore 
Hubert  1" 

"  How  ?"  replied  Clotilde  in  surprise,  "  what  makes  you 
doubt  it  ?" 

"  How  could  you  quietly  have  waited  for  the  answer  to 
such  a  question,  if  you  loved  him  ?" 

"  Is  not  the  wish  of  making  the  one  we  love  happy,  the 
true  nature  of  love  ?" 

"  And  is  not  the  desire  of  possession  no  less  so  ?" 

"  True,"  rejoined  Clotilde  ;  "  but  could  all  the  great  sac- 
rifices which  I  was  willing  to  make  for  him,  have  made  him 
happy,  if  he  did  not  still  wish  to  call  me  his  own  ?  I  was  not 
blind  to  these  sacrifices  ;  I  knew  that  a  plant,  after  it  has 
reached  a  certain  point  of  maturity  and  development,  cannot 
be  transplanted  without  injuring  some  of  the  finest  of  its  vital 
fibres,  which  have  grown  deep  into  the  mother-earth  that 
gave  it  sap  and  nourishment — that  it  can  never  take  root 
again  in  a  strange  soil.  But  was  that  the  question  ?  Could 
that  be  the  question,  where  duty  spoke  so  plainly  ? 

"  The  answer,  which  came  to  me  by  return  of  post,  could 
not  leave  me  in  doubt,  and  will  convince  you  too.  Perhaps — 
nay,  I  am  sure — that  some  of  the  heavenly  sounds  of  love 
which  this  letter  contains,  were  intended  for  my  ear  alone  ; 
but  I  feel  too  deeply  that  I  owe  you,  my  dear  friend,  a  vindi- 
cation of  the  extraordinary  step  upon  which  you  see  me 
resolved,  to  hesitate,  from  false  delicacy,  in  showing  you 
Hubert's  letter." 

The  Baron,  silently,  and  with  a  nervousness  very  different 
from  his  usual  calm  manner,  unfolded  the  paper  which  his 
ward  offered  him.  He  read  : 

"  Clotilde,  that  you  can  ask  me  whether  your  image,  your 
bright,  sacred  image,  still  lives  in  my  heart,  that  you  can 


18  THE   EXILES. 

ask  me  whether  I  can  go  forth  upon  a  new  life  without  you, 
that  is  the  only  thing  which  casts  a  shadow  upon  the  young 
sunny  day  that  is  now  breaking  to  him  who  has  risen  from 
the  grave.  0  Clotilde  !  from  the  sunbeam  which  you  sent 
after  me  into  the  dark  night,  I  have  drunk  the  light,  the 
warmth  of  Life,  until  now  !  what  would  have  become  of  me 
without  thee  !  And  now — even  the  gift  of  liberty  would  be 
loathsome  to  me  from  the  despot's  hand,  did  I  not  suspect 
that  it  is  to  thee  that  I  owe  it !  Without  thee  that  would 
be  banishment,  which  with  thee  is  entering  the  wished-for 
haven  of  earthly  bliss. 

"  I  know  what  you  sacrifice  for  my  love,  my  Clotilde  : 
the  friends  that  know  you  and  love  you  ;  the  world  in  which 
you  shine  ;  the  country  which,  even  in  slavery,  is  still  dear  to 
a  woman's  heart.  But  I  do  not  hesitate  to  accept  these 
sacrifices,  and  a  thousand  more,  for  my  love  shall  be  to  you 
friends,  and  world,  and  country.  By  my  side  you  too  shall 
begin  a  new  life  in  the  land  of  liberty,  you  too  shall  sow  in 
the  virgin  soil,  that  receives  and  brings  forth  again  alike 
energetically,  that  seed  of  a  nobler  humanity  which  the 
decayed  earth  of  Europe  can  no  more  take  into  itself  without 
blighting  it  by  its  poisoned  vapours.  That  which  would  here 
remain  for  years  a  mere  dream,  can  and  must  awake  there  to 
a  fresh  life  ;  the  ideal,  laughed  at  here  as  a  vain  fancy,  may 
gain  reality  and  form  there.  He  suspects  not,  the  tyrant, 
who  threw  me  into  prison  as  arbitrarily  as  he  now  sends  me 
forth  again,  that  by  that  which  he  considers  a  new  punish- 
ment, he  opens  for  me  the  gate  of  the  true  Temple  of  Freedom, 
and  through  my  reunion  with  you,  that  of  Heaven  !  Out- 
side, too,  of  the  walls  of  the  fortress  in  which  he  kept  me 
confined  for  four  years,  Germany  is  nothing  but  a  huge  prison 
with  thirty-eight  cells.  Since  my  earliest  years  of  boyhood, 
America  has  been  the  object  of  my  yearning,  of  my  dreams. 
My  father  fled,  to  escape  the  tyranny  of  the  Corsican.  Spain, 
India,  North  and  South  America  became  the  scenes  of  his 


GUARDIAN   AND   WARD.  19 

warlike  deeds  ;  but  when,  after  ten  years,  he  at  length  re- 
turned to  his  own  fireside,  to  his  deserted  wife  and  children, 
it  was,  among  all  his  tales  of  the  many  adventures  he  had 
met  with,  of  the  distant  climes  which  he  had  visited,  chiefly 
his  report  of  that  land  where  each  one  feels  himself  a  king, 
that  the  boy  listened  to  with  a  greedy  ear,  and  which  filled 
his  soul  with  longing  after  the  soil  of  Freedom. 

"  Thither,  my  Clotilde,  let  us  go ;  let  us  not  dwell  in  the 
cities  of  the  East,  the  busy  markets  of  insatiable  covetous- 
ness,  the  half-civilized  seat  of  political  intrigues,  the  wild 
sporting-field  of  all  the  vice  exiled  from  the  Old  World,  where 
man's  worth  is  measured  by  his  money,  where  greediness  for 
gain  devours,  at  the  same  time  with  the  noble  metal,  the 
nobler  nature  of  man  ; — not  there  let  us  build  up  the  fireside 
of  our  domestic  happiness  !  Nor  will  we  stay  in  the  land  of 
slavery,  to  which  our  kind  ship  will  bear  us  !  May  the  time 
not  be  distant,  when  Humanity  can  purge  these  spots  of  shame 
from  the  pure  mantle  of  Freedom  !  No,  my  Clotilde,  in  the 
sacred  primeval  forests  of  the  far  West,  on  the  carpet  of 
Nature,  the  flowery  prairie — there  we  will  erect  our  taberna- 
cle !  Thou  shalt  be  my  world — I  will  be  thine  ! 

"  My  father  died  in  the  first  year  of  my  imprisonment. 
The  barbarians  would  not  let  him  bless  his  son  on  his  dying- 
bed.  Not  even  the  papers  left  by  him  have  been  delivered 
to  me.  They  are  lying  sealed  in  the  chambers  of  the  court 
in  my  native  city.  But  the  small  fortune  which  he  bequeathed 
me,  is  sufficient  for  the  purchase  of  a  piece  of  land,  for  its 
cultivation,  and  a  life  free  from  care  in  any  part  of  the 
country  where  no  other  luxury  is  known  but  the  breathing 
of  fresh  air.  I  have  drawn  a  portion  of  it,  large  enough  to 
bring  us  safely  to  our  destination  ;  the  rest,  which  a  friendly 
hand  must  first  arrange,  will  be  sent  after  us  to  New  York 
by  one  of  the  earliest  ships. 

"  Time  presses,  my  Clotilde  !  Is  it  possible — is  it  no  dream 
— that  one  short  month — a  month,  whose  after-play  of  cap- 


20  THE   EXILES. 

tivity,  whose  mockery  of  freedom  weighs  almost  more  heavily 
upon  me  than  my  chains  of  the  last  six  years — will  bring  thee 
to  my  arms,  beloved  of  my  soul  1  And  to  be  mine  for  everl" 

Sassen  had  read  with  a  gloomy  composure.  Some  portions 
of  the  letter  he  looked  over  again,  and  then,  giving  it  back 
to  his  companion,  said  in  a  tone  of  bitter  sadness  :  "  Poor 
Hubert  I  Yes,  it  was  cruel  to  thrust  you  into  the  solitude 
of  a  prison  !  Six  years  of  the  school  of  life  would  have 
made  a  worthy  citizen  of  the  yet  flexible  youth — six  years 
of  brooding  in  the  dark,  over  unripe  fancies,  has  made  an 
arrogant  dreamer  of  him.  Do  you  believe  that  this  man  can 
be  a  safe  guide  to  you  through  life,  Clotilde  ?" 

His  ward  was  silent  awhile  ;  it  was  evident  that  she  felt 
hurt.  But  at  length  she  said,  gently  :  "  Your  view  is  too 
dark,  my  friend  !  We  have  both  much  to  learn  yet.  Hubert 
will  help  to  educate  me — I,  him.  But  however  that  may  be," 
she  added,  with  a  firm  voice,  "  I  am  betrothed  to  Hubert. 
I  will  be  his  faithful  companion  through  life.  My  trunks  are 
packed,  in  the  adjoining  room.  I  leave,  early  to-morrow 
morning,  to  be  united  to  him  for  ever  in  a  few  days." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  the  Baron  with  decision,  "  it  is  too 
late.  It  was  too  late  years  ago  !" 

He  arose.  She  did  likewise.  His  tall,  noble  form  stood 
close  before  the  agitated  girl.  All  her  blood  rushed  suddenly 
to  her  heart,  and  then  retreated  just  as  suddenly  ;  she  turned 
pale  and  trembled,  for  she  felt,  she  hardly  knew  how,  that 
her  friend  had  still  something  to  say  to  her. 

"  Clotilde,"  he  began,  "  you  have  pained  me  beyond  de- 
scription ;  nevertheless,  I  thank  you  for  having  at  length 
suffered  me  to  look  into  the  pure  heaven  of  your  heart.  Your 
goodness,  your  magnanimity,  your  self-sacrificing  spirit,  can 
only  make  you  more  and  more  to  me  the  object  of  a vene- 
ration such  as  I  have  never  before  felt  for  a  human  being. 
Yes,  Clotilde — I  probably  see  you  now — for  the  last  time  in 


GUARDIAN   AND   WARD.  21 

this  life — suffer  therefore  that  I — I  too  may  speak  to  you  oiice 
sincerely,  so  that  you  can  feel  even  beyond  the  ocean,  that 
you  have  left  behind  you  here  a — friend,  in  life  and  death!" 

That  strong  man's  hesitation,  the  trembling  of  his  voice, 
nearly  overpowered  her.  She  turned  one  look  upon  him  ;  a 
tear  was  glistening  in  his  eye.  For  the  first  time  she  under- 
stood him.  A  mist  seemed  to  rise  up  before  her  eyes.  She 
was  obliged  to  sit  down.  He  continued  : 

"-When  you  were  still  a  lovely  child,  Clotilde,  I  already  a 
man,  I  delighted  in  gazing  at  you,  as  I  delighted  in  the 
beauty  of  the  morning  sky,  or  the  odour  of  the  rose.  When 
I  had  been  working  the  whole  day,  when  I  was  weary  of 
the  burden  and  troubles  of  business,  and  full  of  annoyance 
and  disgust  at  the  mad,  profligate  doings  of  modern  times, 
that  shake  with  ruthless  hand  everything  sacred,  everything 
that  we  are  wont  to  reverence — at  such  times  I  used  to  like 
to  make  an  evening  visit  to  your  father,  who  had  learned  to 
live  in  his  profound  investigations  of  antiquity  as  in  another 
world.  He  was  so  venerable  in  his  cheerful,  childlike  simpli- 
city, and  this  had  something  refreshing  for  my  ever-working 
brain.  But  still  more  refreshing  was  the  sweet  atmosphere 
of  your  whole  nature,  Clotilde — so  cheerful,  so  loving,  so 
guileless  !  It  always  seemed  to  me  as  if  I  felt  strengthened 
by  your  presence,  as  if,  when  I  had  seen  you,  I  had  gathered 
new  force  for  work  and  struggles. 

"  But  when  the  sterner  realities  of  life  broke  in  upon  you, 
and  turned  your  eyes  to  higher  things  than  the  toys  of  the 
world  ;  when  you  yourself  became  more  of  a  companion  and 
friend  to  me,  who  was  your  parents'  companion  and  friend, 
then  I  learned  to  feel  that  the  man  who  succeeded  in  winning 
your  heart  would  be  the  happiest  of  mortals. 

"  Twelve  years  of  difference  in  our  ages  made  me  timid. 
And  even  if  I  now  and  then  supposed  that  I  had  given  you 
to  understand  plainly  enough  the  nature  of  my  feelings,  you 
did  not  comprehend  my  meaning.  You  had  accustomed  your- 


22  THE   EXILES. 

self  to  look  upon  me  as  one  of  the  '  old  people/  as  one  who 
must  be  held  in  high  respect,  even  as  a  Mentor,  perhaps. 
You  never  even  thought  of  the  possibility  of  my  loving  you. 
All  this  discouraged  me.  At  last  I  disclosed  my  secret  to 
your  father — it  was  not  a  year  before  he  died.  He  was 
moved — and  pleased.  Yes,  Clotilde,  I  may  say  that  the  ex- 
cellent man  heard  me  with  joy.  He  told  me  nothing  of  your 
heart's  history  ;  he  would  not  anticipate  you.  '  Try  to  win 
her  affection,'  he  said.  Soon  after  this  his  confidence  made 
me  your  guardian. 

"  I  had  to  enter  upon  this  office  only  too  soon.  Perhaps 
this — paternal  relation  estranged  me  from  you  more  than  it 
brought  me  nearer  to  you.  For  me  it  seemed  a  new  barrier. 
For  when  I  made  myself  acquainted  with  your  affairs,  I  was 
almost  startled  by  the  large  fortune  that  you  possessed,  with- 
out being  yourself  aware  of  it ;  for  the  confused  state  in 
which  it  had  been,  under  your  father's  management — he  was 
everything  but  a  business-man — had  allowed  you  but  a  small 
income,  and  for  a  long  time  past  you*  had  not  been  considered 
rich.  Now  you  were  suddenly  found  to  be  a  rich  heiress — I 
was  weak  enough — I  confess,  my  pride  could  not  bear  the 
thought  that  the  world,  which  knew  me  as  one  of  the  leaders 
of  the  hated  nobility  party,  might  suppose  that  I  had  sacri- 
ficed my  aristocratic  principles  for  your  wealth.  Your 
wealth,  Clotilde,  which  was  poverty  in  comparison  with  your 
inner  treasures  ! 

"  This  again  sealed  my  lips.  I  was  a  fool  !  But  what 
matter  ?  It  would  have  been  too  late,  at  any  rate  !  You 
had  long  been  bound  by  your  generosity.  You  are  going 
from  me  1  My  eyes  shall  not  even  behold  you  any  more.  I 
am  not  young  enough,  not  unmanly  enough  to  die  of  a  broken 
heart.  But  the  flowers  that  adorned  my  life,  the  hope  that 
for  me,  too,  the  golden  vapour  of  conjugal  happiness  might 
some  day  hang  around  the  .commonplace  triviality  of  every- 
thing— all  these  you  bear  away  with  you  forever,  Clotilde  !" 


GUARDIAN   AND   WARD.  23 

She  sat  silent  and  trembling,  her  head  resting  on  her 
hand  ;  her  eyes,  from  which  the  scalding  tears  gashed  forth, 
hidden  in  her  handkerchief. 

"  It  is  past  now,"  he  continued,  commanding  himself. 
"  May  God  be  with  you  !  I  know  that  He  will  ever  be  your 
chosen  guide.  If  you  still  value  the  advice  of  an  experienced 
friend,  you  will  endeavour  to  persuade  Hubert  to  jettle  down 
in  one  of  the  larger  Eastern  cities.  You  both,  accustomed 
as  you  are  to  the  most  refined  advantages  of  civilization, 
will  miss  much  even  there,  but  can  also  be  a  great  deal  to 
each  other.  In  the  far  West,  among  the  pioneers  of  the 
forest,  where,  more  or  less,  rude  power  still  takes  the  place 
of  the  law,  neither  you  nor  he  will  be  in  your  place.  Do 
not  suffer  yourself  to  be  bribed  by  a  sickly  romance^  devoid 
of  judgment,  to  which  you  would  be  sacrificed.  You  should 
also  seek  to  induce  Hubert  to  spend  his  time  in  useful 
activity.  A  dreamer  will  never  make  you  happy. 

"  I  will  make  all  necessary  arrangements  about  these 
papers,"  he  added,  as  he  tied  them  up  with  a  business-like 
calmness,  in  which  nothing  but  a  certain  hastiness  of  motion 
betrayed  his  inward  state. 

Clotilde  too  had  collected  herself,  and  risen  from  her  seat. 

He  took  her  hand. — "  Farewell  1"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice, 
pressing  that  tender  hand  between  his  own  with  a  painful 
energy.  She  looked  up  to  him  with  a  glance  full  of  soul. 
She  expected  that  he  would  press  a  friend's  last  kiss  upon  her 
lips.  But  he  would  not  trust  the  feeling  which,  kept  down 
with  manly  force,  was  raging  all  the  more  fiercely  within  his 
breast.  Breathlessly  he  stood,  close  before  her.  But  he  did 
not  kiss  her.  He  silently  fixed  a  long,  deep  glance  upon 
her.  "If  you  need  your  friend,"  he  said  at  length  with  a 
trembling  voice,  "  summon  him.  Even  beyond  the  sea  I  will 
follow  you  !  and  now — the  Almighty  be  with  you  1" 

He  dropped  her  hand,v  and  hastened  from  the  room. 


24  THE   EXILES. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE     VOYAGE. 


sat  for  a  long  time  stupefied,  bewildered, 
^»  speechless.  Confused  sensations  were  coursing  through 
her  breast.  It  seemed  to  her  as  if  she  had  just  suffered  a  ter- 
rible-loss, without  well  knowing  ichatshe  had  lost.  By  de- 
grees it  took  a  clearer  form  before  her  soul's  eye.  The  ideal 
picture  of  a  Christian  household  rose  up  before  her  ;  the  hus- 
band —  he  bore  the  features  of  Sassen  —  its  noble  head,  a  sure 
guide  to  everything  good  and  right  ;  the  beloved,  esteemed 
wife,  the  light  of  the  house,  which  feeds  for  him  and  his  the 
sacred  fire  on  the  domestic  hearth,  from  which  flows  all  the 
warmth  of  life  ;  blessed  with  the  world's  goods,  and  in  the 
quiet,  comfortable  enjoyment  of  them,  and  thereby  too  en- 
abled, as  united  instruments,  to  extend  the  blessings  of  the 
Lord  to  suffering  brethren  and  sisters  ;  surrounded  by  the 
graces  of  existence,  by  art,  science,  and  a  sweet  abundance, 
which  gives  a  certain  charm  even  to  the  everyday  face  of 
life;  this  picture  rose  up  before  her  softly,  airily,  enticingly. 

And  opposite  to  it  the  wilderness  of  the  West,  the  wide 
grave  of  all  her  memories,  of  all  the  ties  of  her  youth,  the 
immersion  of  her  whole  past.  She  must  begin  a  new  life  ; 
she  must  educate  herself  for  a  new  life,  and,  with  unsparing 
hand,  cut  off  the  stem  of  her  existence  at  the  root.  She  must 
walk  in  a  strange  world,  doubly  strange  to  her  from  the  ex- 
pressiou  of  her  nature  through  a  strange  language  —  a  lan- 
guage which  she  loved  and  had  thoroughly  learned,  but  still 


THE   VOYAGE.  25 

a  strange  one  ;  a  language  in  which  she  could  not  pray.  And 
she  must  walk  through  this  strange  world  by  the  side  of  a 
strange — yes,  a  strange  man. 

For  could  she  deceive  herself  ?  While  Sassen  was  familiar 
to  her  through  the  intercourse  of  many  years,  while  she  had 
learned  to  know  every  shade  of  his  mind,  his  disposition,  all 
his  favom'ite  occupations,  his  inclinations,  had  not  Hubert 
become  almost  a  stranger  to  her  ?  True,  six  or  seven  years 
ago,  she  had  often  seen  him,  often  conversed  with  him.  But 
how  different  are  the  impressions  of  a  man  received  by  a 
young  girl  of  sixteen  from  those  by  a  woman  of  twenty-three. 
.How  different  are  their  standards,  their  claims.  She  had 
hardly  talked  with  Hubert  of  anything  but  a  dance,  a  ride, 
the  health  or  the  engagement  of  one  or  the  other  mutual 
acquaintance.  And  he  ?  What  had  he  loved  in  her  much 
besides  her  rosy  face,  her  slender  figure,  or,  at  the  most,  her 
singing  and  playing  ?  He  knew  her  inner  nature  as  little  as 
she  did  his.  The  freshness  and  charm  of  youth  gives  importance 
even  to  the  indifferent.  Whoever  listens  to  the  customary 
social  conversation  of  very  young  persons,  and  observes  their 
intercourse  in  the  dance  and  the  game,  and  would  investigate 
why  they  laugh  and  weep,  why  they  like  and  dislike,  distin- 
guish and  neglect,  may  not  hope  thus  to  penetrate  into  the 
yet  unopened  depths  of  their  minds,  still  incomprehensible 
even  to  themselves.  Sweetly  do  the  green  buds  grow  upon 
the  mother  stem  ;  here  and  there  a  small  rosy  stripe  peeps 
forth  from  the  shell  of  green  leaves,  like  the  soul  of  the 
maiden  from  the  nature  of  the  child.  But  it  is  only  the 
opening  rose  that  sends  forth  the  balmy  odour  which  forms 
its  true  being,  and  without  which  a  rose  would  never  be  a 
real  rose.  As  among  plants,  so  among  men. 

Into  what  an  abyss  of  dark  reflection  did  these  thoughts 

cast  her.     She  roused  herself  forcibly.     A  thousand  little 

affairs  were  yet  to  be  attended  to.     If  she  wished  to  keep 

up,  she  must  not  give  way  for  a  moment  to  the  sadness  which 

2 


26  THE   EXILES. 

overcame  her  at  the  idea  that  all  she  loved,  the  friends  of  her 
youth,  the  scenes  of  her  joys  and  sorrows,  the  sphere  of  her 
activity — that  all  these  she  must  take  leave  of  on  the  morrow, 
perhaps  for  ever. 

None  of  her  friends  knew  of  her  plan,  except  Dr.  Stellmann 
and  his  wife,  her  travelling -companions,  who  had  engaged 
their  passage,  obtained  passports,  and  made  all  the  necessary 
arrangements  for  the  journey.  She  had  spent  the  two  pre- 
ceding days  in  writing  letters  to  different  persons,  to  some  of 
whom  she  merely  communicated  her  resolve,  gave  others  a 
more  detailed  explanation,  and  sent  to  others  still  a  few  cor- 
dial words  of  farewell.  The  letters  were  to  be  delivered 
when  she  was  gone.  Her  servants  knew  that  she  was  going 
to  make  a  long  journey  ;  now  she  called  them  before  her,  told 
them  that  she  would  not  return,  and  dismissed  the  weeping 
girls  with  liberal  presents.  She  would  gladly  have  taken  one 
of  them  with  her  to  that  strange  land,  but  one  had  an  old 
mother,  whom  she  would  not  deprive  of  her  child  in  her  old 
age  ;  the  other's  talkativeness  had  deterred  her,  for  it  was 
most  important  to  her  to  carry  out  her  plan  with  the  strictest 
secresy.  She  did  not  fear  the  wild  ocean,  the  land  of  the 
stranger,  so  desolate  for  her,  the  thousand  privations  that 
awaited  her.  But  the  shallow  curiosity  of  the  crowd,  their 
wide-open  eyes,  the  insulting  surprise  of  their  looks,  their 
intrusive  questions,  their  well-meant  advice — these  were  what 
she  dreaded,  what  she  feared.  She  had,  therefore,  resolved 
to  wait  till  she  reached  the  seaport,  where  Stellmann  was  well 
acquainted,  before  she  sought  for  a  faithful  servant  to  take 
with  her  across  the  ocean. 

Now  everything  was  ready.  After  a  night  spent  in  tears 
and  prayer,  she  sat  the  next  morning  in  the  travelling-carriage, 
beside  Henrietta,  who  also  pressed  her  wet  handkerchief  to 
her  face.  But  the  fresh  morning  breeze  soon  dried  her  tears. 
The  object  of  her  love  of  many  years  sat  opposite  her,  ready 
to  meet  the  future  with  cheerful  courage  and  sanguine  hopes. 


THE    VOYAGE.  27 

It  was  only  half  a  year  since  they  had  ventured  to  marry,  for 
the  tedious  medical  studies  and  examinations  through  which 
Stellmann  had  to  go  before  he  was  allowed  to  practise,  had 
damped  even  his  courage  too  often  to  make  him  very  urgent 
in  his  entreaties  to  Henrietta's  parents  to  let  her  become  his 
wife  before  he  had  passed  his  final  examination.  But  even 
when  he  had  happily  slipped  through  this  gate,  and  found  the 
entrance  into  the  holy  of  holies,  no  bread  awaited  him  at  the 
altar.  In  the  city  he  was  obliged  to  cure  the  poor,  who  were 
unable  to  pay,  to  make  himself  known  ;  and  on  the  eggs  and 
ham  with  which  the  peasants  showed  their  obligation,  he  might 
manage  to  subsist,  but  they  would  neither  pay  for  the  rent, 
nor  for  decent  clothing.  Emigration  to  America,  which  had 
long  been  the  Doctor's  favourite  dream — for  he  had  already  at 
the  high  school  belonged  to  those  "  weary  of  Europe,"  who 
hated  tyrants,  and  declared  every  one  an  enemy  who  could 
not  with  the  same  knife  which  he  had  just  plunged  into  a 
monarch's  heart,  quietly  cut  himself  a  piece  of  bread — this 
dream  rose  up  once  more  before  him.  Henrietta  was  willing 
— seven  years  of  waiting  would  have  made  her  ready  to  follow 
the  beloved  of  her  soul  to  Irkutsk,  if  it  had  been  necessary, 
and  his  courage, 'his  power  of  joyful  anticipation,  which  made 
him  see  the  sky  of  the  transatlantic  vista  filled  with  golden 
suns,  was  enough  to  raise  in  her,  too,  the  most  delighted 
expectations.  They  resolved,  therefore,  to  take  advantage  of 
the  commencement  of  spring  navigation  for  executing  their 
plan.  New  Orleans  was  just  the  place  for  the  Doctor  ;  it 
might  be  supposed  that  there  was  no  abundance  of  German 
physicians  there,  and  if  he  did  not  succeed  there,  it  was  at 
least  a  part  of  the  land  of  liberty,  where  every  place  offers 
any  one  who  will  bestir  himself — and  no  one  was  more  willing 
to  do  so  than  he — ample  means  of  gain. 

An  engagement  of  seven  years'  duration  had  not  dimin- 
ished either  Stellmann's  or  Henrietta's  love,  on  the  contrary, 
perhaps  strengthened  it,  for  the  same  reason  that  old  married 


28  THE  EXILES'. 

people  love  each  other  better  than  young  ones  ;  but  the  long, 
constant  intercourse — Stellnmnn's  means  had  not  allowed  him 
to  visit  other  universities — which  yet  brought  with  it  neither 
the  educating  duties  of  marriage,  nor  its  hallowed  rights, 
had  robbed  their  relation  of  the  freshness,  the  holiness,  which 
gives  the  state  of  a  betrothed,  but  not  married  couple,  so 
peculiar  a  charm.  Henrietta,  brought  up  to  great  order  and 
precision,  and  often  hurt  by  Stellmann's  thoughtlessness,  and 
the  little  reliance  that  could  be  placed  on  him,  had  accustomed 
herself  to  a  certain  tutoring  tone  towards  him,  which  he  had 
already  disliked  in  his  betrothed.  It  displeased  him,  however, 
far  more  in  his  wife,  and  he  hoped  to  cure  her  of  it,  by  endeav- 
ouring to  turn  her  attention  to  her  own  imperfections,  which, 
in  reality,  did  not  strike  him  as  unpleasantly  as  might  be  sup- 
posed from  the  strong  expressions  of  his  blame.  His  intention 
was  merely  to  make  her  conscious  that  they  who  are  not  with- 
out faults  themselves,  should  not  censure  others.  He  was, 
therefore,  in  the  habit  of  turning  the  small  reproaches  which 
she  sometimes  made  him,  round  upon  her,  and  aiming  the 
point  of  the  arrow  at  the  attacker. 

"  Dear  Stellmann  "  Henrietta  would  say,  after  vain  at- 

• 
tempts  to  place  her  feet  in  safety,  "  I  beg  of  you  not  always  to 

put  your  heavy  boots  on  my  dress."  "  But  you  sat  down  on  my 
travelling-cap  yesterday,  and  the  seat  can  be  seen  better  than 
the  floor." — "  I  fear  your  cloak,  that  is  continually  slipping 
from  the  front  seat  on  to  Clotilde's  feet,  must  be  very  much 
in  her  way  ;  you  ought  to  fold  it  up,  or  sit  upon  it."  "  I  suspect 
your  immense  basket  there,  between  you  and  her,  troubles  her 
much  more.  It  takes  up  at  least  the  third  part  of  the  seat." — 
"  But  how  could  you  put  the  guide-book,which  we  need  so  much 
on  the  journey,  into  the  trunk,  with  all  the  other  books,  my 
dear  Stellmann  ?"  "  You  will  not  want  much  information 
about  the  Luneburg  Heath,  Henrietta  ;  and  had  you  not 
even  put  the  nightclothes  at  the  bottom  of  the  bag,  so  that 
we  had  to  unpack  the  whole  affair  at  the  first  station  ?" 


THE- VOYAGE.  29 

Thus  Stellmann,  instead  of  being  prevented  by  her  mistakes 
from  committing  similar  ones  himself,  seemed  to  look  upon 
them  as  the  most  perfect  justification  of  his  own.  Clotilde, 
involuntarily,  had  to  think  of  the  spirited  little  fellow  of  three 
years  of  age,  who,  accustomed  never  to  let  himself  be  worsted, 
upon  an  occasion  when  an  older  friend,  to  meet  his  eternal 
curiosity  about  the  why  and  the  wherefore  of  things,  said  to 
him,  "I  see  you  are  a  philosopher,"  replied,  very  decidedly, 
"  You  are  one,  too." 

This  petty  quarrelling  and  fault-finding  between  the  young 
couple,  soon  found  still  other  points  to  take  hold  of.  Hen- 
rietta was  round  and  plump  of  body  ;  she  could  not  bear  much 
heat,  and  was  determined  to  have  all  the  windows  of  the 
carriage  open.  Stellmann,  though  not  delicate,  was  thin  and 
frosty  ;  in  his  capacity  of  physician,  he  declared  the  rough 
March  winds  to  be  exceedingly  dangerous,  and  would  not 
acknowledge  the  truth  of  Henrietta's  joking  assertions,  that 
in  this  he  only  consulted  his  own  inclination,  just  as  he  also 
called  his  favourite  dishes  very  wholesome,  and  forbade  his 
patients  eating  what  he  did  not  like.  Those  moments  when 
one  of  the  couple  drew  back  into  a  corner  to  sleep,  and  closed 
their  eyes,  were  quickly  used  by  the  other  party  for  opening 
or  shutting  the  window,  just  as  the  nature  of  the  waking  half 
happened  to  be  hot  or  cold,  not  without  drawing  on  their 
heads  some  reproaches  from  the  other  on  awakening. 

Or  they  could  not  agree  about  the  hour  of  starting  the  next 
morning.  Stellmann  thought  it  foolish  to  spoil  one's  night 
by  rising  before  daybreak,  as  they  could,  at  any  rate,  only  go 
a  certain  number  of  miles  a  day  with  their  hired  horses. 
Henrietta  declared  that  it  was  prudent  to  think  of  the  pos- 
sibility of  an  unlooked-for  delay.  Or  Stellmann  wished  to 
stop  at  a  hotel,  where  he  had  heard  the  meals  were  splendid, 
the  prices  reasonable.  Henrietta  preferred  another  one, 
where  her  aunt  had  once  lodged,  and  praised  the  excellence 
of  the  beds  and  the  fineness  of  the  linen.  Clotilde  was 


30  THE    EXILES. 

always  called  upon  to  decide,  but  this  was  a  thing  with  which 
our  friend  would  have  as  little  as  possible  to  do. 

Often,  too,  the  remembrance  of  home,  and  of  her  parents, 
came  over  the  young  wife,  and  she  would  silently  weep. 
Stellmann  saw  it  with  heartfelt  sympathy.  But  he  did  not 
show  this  ;  instead  of  talking  to  her  about  her  mother,  her 
companions,  her  home,  and  letting  her  weep  until  her  heart 
was  lightened,  he  pretended  not  to  see  her  tears,  began 
singing  students'  songs,  telling  anecdotes,  or  talking  nonsense 
to  the  beggar  children  who  ran  along  beside  the  carriage, 
until  she  was  diverted,  and,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  began  to 
laugh.  Then  they  would  commence  singing  together,  or 
make  plans  for  the  future.  A  few  hours  would  pass  in  inno- 
cent happiness,  until  perhaps  a  new  disagreement,  as  to  whether 
the  house  which  they  were  going  to  build,  should  be  situated 
on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  or  the  Mississippi,  whether  it 
should  have  one  or  two  stories,  and  the  like,  brought  up 
another  light  cloud  upon  this  bright  sky. 

Clotilde's  heart  ached  at  this  picture  of  a  happy  marriage. 
Henrietta  was  one  of  the  dearest  friends  of  her  girlhood,  and 
she  had  never  looked  upon  her  as  far  below  herself,  though 
she  knew  that  circumstances  had  granted  herself  a  more 
thorough  education.  Stellmann  had  passed  for  an  excellent 
head  at  the  university,  as  well  as  Hubert.  His  morals  were 
good,  his  honour  was  unblemished,  his  political  opinions  were 
the  same  as  those  Hubert  was  known  to  entertain.  What 
then  made  the  latter  superior  to  him  ? 

But  it  was  only  before  their  meeting  that  she  could  ask 
thus.  When  she  had  seen  Hubert,  when  he  had  knelt  at  her 
feet,  and  covered  her  hands  with  burning  tears,  with  still 
more  burning  kisses,  when  each  of  his  words,  each  of  his 
looks,  expressed  the  tenderest,  most  fervent  love  and  rever- 
ence,— then  she  knew  what  made  him  superior  to  the  other 
— it  was  his  nobler  nature.  The  feelings  of  the  lovers,  in 
those  first  hours  after  their  meeting,  no  words  can  describe. 


THE   VOYAGE.  31 

A  blissful  consciousness  of  giving,  of  receiving,  entered 
Clotilde's  heart,  the  like  of  which  she  had  never  known 
before.  Hubert,  it  is  true,  looked  pale  and  wan;  the  long 
confinement  seemed  nearly  to  have  broken  the  strength  of 
his  youth.  But  it  was  just  an  immeasurable,  melting  pity 
which  enhanced  her  affection  for  him  so  greatly.  She  too 
had  lost  the  first  bloom  of  her  beauty.  But  her  soul  looked 
out  from  her  blue  eye  more  clearly,  than  before  she  had  suf- 
fered so  deeply,  so  painfully.  And  now  each  could  hope  for 
the  other  new  strength,  new  bloom,  in  the  new  life  which 
they  were  both,  hand  in  hand,  and  full  of  hopes,  going  forth 
to  meet. 

It  proved  that  Henrietta  had  done  well  to  urge  them  on. 
For  the  Swan — so  the  vessel  was  called  that  was  to  take 
them  to  America — was  already  lying  outside  of  the  harbour; 
and  instead  of  having,  as  Clotilde  had  hoped,  a  day  for  their 
final  preparations,  their  departure  was  hastened  by  the  sud- 
den favourable  wind,  and  the  emigrants  had  notice  given 
them  to  repair  immediately  to  the  steamboat  which  was  to 
convey  them  to  the  vessel,  it  having  already  pot  out  to  sea. 
This  was  a  source  of  great  perplexity.  Hubert  wished 
urgently  not  to  leave  Europe  otherwise  than  as  Clotilde's  hus- 
band. Clotilde  herself  had  counted  upon  it  with  certainty. 
The  voyage  seemed  safer  to  her  with  him  as  such  by  her 
side.  But  time  pressed.  Should  she  hurry  through  the  holy 
rite,  as  we  hurry  through  a  meal  or  some  other  everyday 
business,  when  the  travelling-carriage  waits  at  the  door  ? — 
Nothing  was  more  offensive  to  her  delicacy  !  Perhaps  they 
would  find  a  clergyman  on  board  !  In  a  word,  the  moment 
flew  by;  the  carriage  which  was  to  take  them  to  the  boat 
was  waiting. 

There  was  no  clergyman  on  the  vessel.  Their  party  and 
three  or  four  merchants  of  the  most  common  kind,  were  all  the 
cabin  passengers.  Everybody  arranged  themselves.  Stell- 
mann  gave  up  his  place  in  their  state-room  to  Clotilde,  and 


32  THE  EXILES. 

took  one  in  Hubert's.  The  lovers  agreed  that  their  marriage 
should  take  place  immediately  after  their  safe  arrival.  Mean- 
while, a  constant  close  intercourse  from  morning  till  night,  a 
cordial  exchange  of  thoughts  and  feelings,  during  this  sweet 
daily  communion,  was  to  prepare  them  for  that  step. 

Any  one  who  has  floated  upon  the  deep  in  the  ever- 
rocking-cradle  of  a  sailing-vessel,  knows  only  too- well  what 
terrors,  what  sufferings,  what  an  entire  surrender  of  our 
individuality  this  situation  brings  with  it,  until  even  this  un- 
natural state  has,  by  habit,  become  a  second  nature.  After 
our  friends  had  safely  passed  this  time  of  probation,  and  the 
clear  weather  grew  milder  and  milder,  as  their  course  took 
them  farther  south,  and  the  season  advanced,  each  one  made, 
as  it  were,  a  plan  of  life  aboard  ship  for  himself.  Henri- 
etta, who,  from  the  beginning,  had  suffered  more  than  the 
rest,  imagined  that  she  could  bear  the  motion  best  while 
lying  in  bed,  flat  on  her  back.  Stellmann,  who  was  exceed- 
ingly lively,  tried  to  divert  his  mind  by  restless  activity.  He 
liked  to  join  in  the  lighter  work  of  the  sailors,  but  when  there 
was  nothing  to  do,  he  would  pace  violently  up  and  down  the 
deck.  Clotilde  felt  well  only  in  the  fresh  air.  She  was  on 
deck  before  breakfast,  and  by  degrees  felt  so  much  at  home 
there  that  she  could  busy  herself  with  working,  while  Hubert 
(whom  the  motion  did  not  affect  in  the  least,  and  whose  in- 
ward nature  allowed  him  to  bear  better  than  the  others  the 
want  of  regular  occupation)  sat  at  her  feet  on  a  tub  turned 
upside  down,  and  absorbed  himself  and  her  in  close  conver- 
sation. 

How  much  they  had  to  tell  each  other  !  Hubert,  in  partic- 
ular, was  inexhaustible. — With  a  poetical  mind,  he  combined 
a  certain  magic  power  of  speech,  heightened  by  a  mellow, 
full,  manly  voice  ;  Clotilde  smilingly  and  eagerly  drank  in 
those  sweet  tones,  and  was  herself  satisfied  with  merely  reply- 
ing to  his  questions.  And  yet,  what  was  it  that  he  had  to 
tell  ?  In  sad  monotony  he  had  spent  the  six  years  of  their 


THE   VOYAGE.  33 

separation ;  instead  of  living  them  through  in  activity,  he  had 
been  suffered  only  to  dream  them  away.  But  through  the 
night  of  his  fancies,  the  bright  golden  thread  of  his  love  had 
wound  itself.  Before  the  paper  which  Clotilde  had  sent  after 
him,  those  lines  of  heavenly  consolation,  he  had  knelt  early 
and  late,  as  for  his  morning  and  evening  devotions  ;  the 
image  of  a  reconciling  future  had  smiled  upon  him  from  those 
words.  When,  with  the  whole  force  of  his  eloquence,  with 
melodious  voice,  his  brown,  sparkling  eyes  raised  to  hers, 
he  spoke  of  his  love  in  a  thousand  repetitions,  and  yet  always 
in  new,  flowery,  ravishing  words,  and  told  her  how  her  image 
had  shone  forth  from  the  night  of  his  existence  like  a  star  ; 
when  the  ocean  around  them  murmured  harmoniously,  now 
rising  high  in  majestic  billows,  now  crowding  wavelet  on 
wavelet,  softly,  gently,  in  its  deep  green  mystery,  reflecting 
the  broad,  boundless  heaven,  with  its  mass  of  colours  and 
vapoury  cloud-pictures  ;  when  she  sat  before  him  thus,  hand 
in  hand,  and  eye  in  eye — then  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  some 
magic  had  transported  her  into  the  midst  of  a  fair  poem,  into 
the  living  poetry  of  the  Beautiful,  away  from  her  little  world 
of  naked  reality,  of  useful  activity,  of  harmless,  temperate 
enjoyments,  commonplace  annoyances,  and  lukewarm  friendly 
intercourse.  Yes,  she  was  happy;  happy,  as  the  human  heart 
can  be  only  once,  only  for  one  short  hour  ! 

Then  the  evening  would  come,  and  the  moon  would 
spread  its  magic  light  over  the  calm,  holy  deep.  Stellmann, 
half  forcibly,  would  bring  Henrietta  up  on  deck,  and  she 
always  thanked  him  for  it  in  the  end.  The  four  would  then 
seat  themselves  close  to  the  side  of  the  ship,  as  near  as  pos- 
sible to  the  magic  watery  mirror,  silent,  thoughtful,  or  in 
low  conversation  about  their  future,  about  the  friends  they 
had  left,  or  the  wondrous  beauty  of  the  evening.  Or  they 
would  sing  sweet  four-part  songs  by  Hauptmann  or  Mendels- 
sohn, and  the  Swan,  which  bore  them,  kept  time  as  it  cut 
the  waves,  and  the  startled  waters  murmured  the  accom- 
2* 


34  THE    EXILES. 

paniment.    Yes,  these  were  moments  of  a  deep,  foreshadowing, 
exceeding  bliss  ! 

Clotilde  wished  to  hear  more  about  Hubert's  home-circle, 
about  his  father,  his  mother.  Hubert  liked  to  tell  of  his 
childhood,  and  spoke  of  his  mother,  particularly,  with  deep 
feeling.  His  father,  early  in  life,  had  fought  with  the  English 
army  in  Spain.  A  longing  for  his  country  drove  him  towards 
home  ;  he  thought  he  had  come  only  for  a  short  time,  for 
he  hated  the  tyranny  of  the  French.  Love  enchained  him 
there.  He  married  Hubert's  mother.  Hubert  was  not  yet 
two  years  old,  when  the  campaign  against  Russia,  which  his 
father  was  ordered  to  join  in  the  Westphalian  service,  induced 
the  latter  to  withdraw  himself  from  this  unpleasant  summons, 
by  escaping  to  England,  where  he  again  took  service,  and 
was  ordered  to  India.  When  the  war  of  deliverance  broke 
out  he  was  far  away.  Hubert's  mother,  with  a  pious,  re- 
signed heart,  learned  to  look  upon  herself  almost  as  a  widow. 
News  of  her  husband  came  only  very  rarely  from  that  distant 
region  ;  at  length  they  ceased  entirely.  Years  passed  ;  Ger- 
many, free  once  more,  formed  new  hopes,  met  new  disap- 
pointments, and  the  husband  did  not  return.  The  deserted 
wife,  a  strong,  heroic  soul,  was  father  and  mother  to  the  boy 
and  the  delicate  girl,  who  had  been  born  after  her  husband's 
departure.  When  Hubert  was  nearly  twelve  years  old,  his 
father  suddenly  returned.  He  had  fought  in  all  the  principal 
parts  of  the  world  ;  had  long  been  confined  by  his  wounds  ;  his 
letters  had  been  lost.  Hubert's  mother  did  not  investigate, 
she  hardly  asked  ;  she  was  willing,  was  resolved  to  believe 
everything  which  he,  her  beloved  rambler,  had  to  say  in  his 
excuse.  He  deemed  himself  happy  to  be  at  home,  in  her  arms 
once  more.  He  was  the  tenderest  husband,  the  most  affec- 
tionate father.  Three  years  after,  the  wife  died.  Her  hus- 
band was  in  despair,  and  Franz,  the  son,  old  enough  to  feel 
his  irreparable  loss.  His  father  now  placed  him  at  a  high 


THE    VOYAGE.  35 

school,  and  lived  himself  on  a  small  estate  which  his  wife  had 
bought  and  managed  with  a  thrifty  hand. 

The  daughter  married  young,  while  the  son  was  in  the 
second  year  of  his  university  course.  The  father  died,  in 
his  best  years,  after  much  suffering  from  the  eifects  of  a 
wound,  while  his  son  was  pining  in  prison.  These  were 
the  outlines  of  Hubert's  biography. 

Clotilde's  eye  had  early  been  sharpened  by  observation. 
She  loved,  she  admired  Hubert's  fine  poetic  nature,  but 
she  distinguished  with  correct  tact  his  total  want  of 
practical  talent — that  he  was  just  deficient  in  that  which 
he  needed  most  in  the  country  that  was  to  become  his 
own.  Soon  after  starting,  he  discovered  that  he  had  left 
his  trunk  in  the  hotel  at  Bremen,  filled  with  new  clothes 
and  linen.  His  travelling-bag  contained  some  of  the  latter, 
but  when  this  was  used  up,  Henrietta  had  to  open  her 
boxes,  to  supply  the  deficiency  from  the  superabundant 
treasures,  which,  remembering  that  they  were  going  to  a 
dear  country,  she  had  taken  along  for  her  husband.  Stell- 
mann,  who  liked  to  joke  upon  his  wife's  over-carefulness, 
took  this  occasion  to  address  Hubert  in  a  solemn  oration, 
thanking  him,  in  the  name  of  his  future  great-grand- 
children, for  helping  to  wear  out  these  articles  of  clothing, 
and  thus  lightening  the  burden  of  their  duty  to  appear 
in  the  yellow  shirts  and  oldfashioned  collars  of  their 
ancestors,  in  the  next  century .^ 

But  not  only  Hubert's  wearing  apparel — his  travelling 
money,  too,  was  in  the  trunk;  at  least  that  which  was 
to  take  him  from  New  Orleans  to  New  York  or  to  the 
West,  for  the  voyage  had  been  paid  for  in  advance. 
Fortunately  Clotilde  had  her  treasures  with  her.  She 
had  carefully  packed  her  money,  her  jewels,  her  most 
important  papers,  into  a  small  leather  bag,  which,  light 
and  easy  as  it  was  to  carry,  she  hung  over  her  pillow 
at  night.  Hubert  had  an  incredible  ignorance  about  the 


36  THE  EXILES. 

everyday  affairs  of  life;  notwithstanding  that  a  voyage 
to  America  had  already  been  one  of  the  dreams  of  his 
youth,  he  had  as  yet  read  very  little  about  this  country, 
which  was  growing  up  with  such  remarkable  rapidity. 
He  had  held  fast  the  ideal  conception  that  he  had  formed 
of  it  in  early  youth;  a  republican  government,  equality  of 
rights,  perfect  liberty  of  conscience,  sublime,  primitive  natural 
features  in  shape  of  gigantic  rivers,  majestic  mountain  ridges 
and  impenetrable  forests.  But  in  his  historical  studies 
he  had  skimmed  over  the  United  States  only  in  the  most 
superficial  manner,  and  had  hardly  ever  thought  of  in- 
forming himself,  through  the  relations  of  modern  travellers, 
in  what  way  the  hero-boy,  whose  waking  had  once  been 
so  joyfully  welcomed  by  Europe,  had  developed  into  a 
man. 

The  authorities  had  not  been  cruel  enough  to  refuse 
him  and  such  of  his  fellow-prisoners  as  could  pay  for 
it,  the  luxury  of  books,  which,  however,  were  carefully 
examined  when  they  arrived  and  before  they  were  sent 
back.  But  Hubert  had  used  the  permission  to  send  for 
books,  only  for  historical,  and  still  more  for  philosophical 
works,  with  which  he  was  remarkably  conversant.  He 
was  acquainted  with  English  literature  and  was  enthusiastic 
for  Shakespeare,  whom  he  read  in  the  original  without 
difficulty.  But  he  had  never  once  thought  of  taking  any 
trouble  about  the  pronunciation  and  the  conversational 
expressions  of  the  English  language,  which  are  so  indis- 
pensable to  the  traveller. 

During  his  imprisonment  he  had  accustomed  himself 
to  sleep  in  the  daytime  and  keep  awake  in  the  night, 
and  would  perhaps  have  continued  this  perverse  mode  of 
life  on  board  the  ship,  had  it  not  been  for  Clotilde. 
To  regulate  his  rising  and  going  to  bed,  or  certain  meals, 
by  fixed  hours,  seemed  to  him  the  height  of  absurdity, 
one  of  the  commonplace  conventionalities  of  the  human 


THE   VOYAGE.  37 

race.  Various  dilatory  habits  had  grown  up  with  him; 
if  he  was  riding  in  a  public  conveyance,  and  ordered  the 
driver  to  stop  when  he  had  reached  his  destination,  he 
would  not  have  the  money  ready,  but  pulled  out  his  purse 
only  after  the  carriage  had  stopped,  without  noticing  the 
annoyed  faces  of  his  companions  at  the  delay.  Or,  absorbed 
in  conversation,  he  would  forget  the  stopping-place  entirely, 
and  would  have  to  go  back  a  mile  or  two  on  foot,  though 
without  ever  being  in  the  least  out  of  humour  at  this. 
If  he  had  occasion  to  mingle  with  a  crowd,  it  often  happened 
to  him  that  his  pocket-book  or  handkerchief,  or  even  his 
watch,  was  stolen.  Sometimes,  too,  he  only  thought  some- 
thing had  been  stolen  from  him,  until  he  found  that  he 
had  left  the  missing  article  at  home,  or  lost  it  in  the 
grass  while  resting  during  an  already  forgotten  walk  taken 
a  short  time  before. 

When  travelling,  during  his  vacations,  he  had  never 
been  able  to  make  himself  at  home  in  the  different  kinds 
of  money  of  different  states,  and  as  the  embarrassments 
which  were  the  result  of  this,  always  brought  him  back 
to  his  favourite  idea — and  it  should  be  that  of  every 
faithful  German  heart — namely,  that  all  Germany  should 
have  one  coin,  because  it  must  and  ought  to  be  one  itself, 
the  time  in  which  he  might  have  increased  his  practical 
knowledge  of  this  evil,  generally  passed  in  disputes  about 
the  necessity  of  removing  it. 

On  such  journeys,  too,  he  saw  hardly  one  of  the 
curiosities  which  excite  the  interest  of  most  people.  While 
his  companions  let  themselves  be  shown  about  in  palaces 
and  galleries,  or  delivered  their  letters  of  introduction, 
he  rambled  about  over  the  surrounding  country;  laid 
himself  down  to  dream  by  the  forest-brooks,  or  climbed 
to  the  tops  of  mountains  without  a  guide.  But  to  make 
a  regular  plan  for  his  journey,  was  utterly  impossible  to 
him,  for  he  was  quite  incapable  of  retaining  distances 


38  THE   EXILES. 

and  numbers  of  miles  in  his  head;  he  staid  at  places  that 
he  liked,  and  from  those  where  he  felt  uncomfortable  he 
hastened  away — just  as  it  happened  too,  sometimes,  that 
when  a  student,  he  had  spent  his  quarterly  allowance  in 
a  few  weeks,  while  another  time  he  had  it  still  untouched 
at  the  end  of  the  next  quarter. 

With  an  open,  noble  heart,  and  the  love  for  solitude 
natural  to  a  dreamy,  poetic  mind,  we  could  apply  to  him, 
during  his  university-life,  the  apparent  contradiction,  that  he 
had  more  friends  than  acquaintances.  And  these  were — for 
his  purse  was  no  less  open  than  his  heart — very  dear  friends. 
He  was  a  generous  creditor,  without  being,  with  his  few 
wants  and  a  high  degree  of  humanity,  a  careless  debtor.  In- 
deed, the  payments  of  his  small  debts  to  mechanics,  labourers, 
etc.,  was  the  only  point  in  which  he  showed  himself  punctual 
and  orderly  ;  a  trait  which  contributed  not  a  little  towards 
ensuring  to  him  the  most  universal  love  and  esteem. 

Clotilde  soon  looked  her  beloved  friend  through,  now 
with  approbation  and  then  with  indulgence.  There  was  only 
one  point  which  gave  her  a  painful  feeling.  Hubert's  spirit- 
ual nature  had  developed  itself  in  a  certain  modern  philo- 
sophical school,  whose  sophistical  system  was  as  ill-matched 
as  its  phraseology  to  Clotilde's  simple  Christian  morality.  She 
soon  saw  that  it  had  led  her  friend  to  a  sort  of  pantheism, 
which  confounded  her.  It  was  not,  indeed,  the  cold,  ideal, 
hardening  pantheism  of  our  day,  which  Hubert  had  received 
within  himself;  his  poetic  nature,  which  had  planted  the 
germ  of  a  belief  in  God's  existence  deep  within  his  breast, 
had  not  suffered  that  annihilating  doctrine  to  penetrate  into 
his  heart,  even  if  his  mind  had  harboured  it.  Indeed,  only 
bigotry  could  say  that  Hubert  was  without  religion.  He  be- 
lieved in  God  as  the  natural  Power  by  which  everything  was 
formed  and  primitively  conditioned  ;  he  believed  in  Him 
with  a  certain  holy  awe,  and  the  divinity  which  he  attached 
to  everything  springing  from  God,  was  the  support  of  his 


THE   VOYAGE.  39 

morality,  and  must  not  be  mistaken  for  that  philosophical 
materialism  which  entirely  identifies  God  and  the  world, 
cancels  moral  freedom,  and,  with  consistency,  can  only  end  in 
the  horrors  of  fatalism.  But  Clotilde,  with  terror,  thought 
him  on  the  road  to  these  opinions.  She  hardly  understood 
him.  She  loved  God  as  a  father,  feared  Him  as  a  judge, 
adored  Him  as  the  All-wise,  All-seeing,  Almighty ;  she 
heard  His  voice  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  she  worshipped  His 
unfathomable  love  in  the  wondrous,  holy  mystery  in  which 
He  has  revealed  His  mercy  to  the  sinful  human  race.  She 
felt  His  breath,  saw  His  finger,  everywhere.  To  her  this  life 
was  but  a  school  for  the  next.  And  here  in  the  inmost  core 
of  her  soul,  was  there  to  be  no  answering  sound  from  that  of 
her  chosen  husband.  Involuntarily  she  avoided  speaking 
with  Hubert  about  that  which  was  most  sacred  to  her  ;  she 
dreaded  to  make  the  discovery  that  his  God  was  but  the  re- 
sult of  a  philosophical  inference.  "  Love,"  she  said  to  her- 
self, "  that  love  which  is  the  essence  of  his  whole  being,  will 
bring  right  all  errors  of  his  mind.  Love  will  teach  him  to 
know  God  in  His  truth — that  love  which  passeth  all  under- 
standing." And  thus,  with  gentle  hand,  she  drew  a  conceal- 
ing veil  over  that  which  she  recognised  as  the  shade  of  his 
inward  nature,  and  was  happy  in  the  light — of  her  love. 


40  THE   EXILES. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE      ARRIVAL. 

THE  morning  of  a  sultry  day  was  breaking,  and  a  deep 
blue  arch  of  sky  rose  above  the  Atlantic,  when  the  gentle 
current  of  the  waves  bore  a  boat  full  of  shipwrecked  suffer- 
ers towards  the  coast  of  Florida.  For  two  long,  anxious 
days,  and  three  fearful  nights,  they  had  drifted  about  on  the 
boundless  ocean,  without  food,  without  shelter,  totally  helpless, 
when  at  length  the  beams  of  the  awakening  morning  showed 
the  unfortunate  people  the  white,  shining,  chalky  coast  in  the 
distance,  and  a  fresh  east  wind  drove  them  quickly  into  one  of 
the  little  coves  into  which  Florida's  numerous  streams  empty, 
winding  through  reeds  and  morass,  before  they  finally  join 
the  sea.  There  were  thirty  living  persons  in  the  boat,  men 
and  women  ;  besides  these,  the  small  withered  corpse  of  a 
child,  convulsively  clasped  by  the  mother's  arms,  on  the  lap 
of  a  wild-looking  woman  with  ashy  cheeks  and  features  dis- 
torted by  despair.  Several  fellow-sufferers,  who  had  sunk 
under  hunger  and  anxiety,  had  been  buried  in  the  ocean,  to 
lighten  the  boat,  but -no  power  could  tear  from  her  the  last 
remains  of  her  famished  baby. 

Pale  as  death  and  bewildered,  all  looked  around  when  the 
third  day  broke  ;  but  the  sight  of  the  land,  at  no  great  dis- 
tance, quickly  fanned  those  last  sparks  of  life  which  hope 
alone  had  kept  glimmering,  to  a  bright  flame.  An  indescrib- 
able, trembling  emotion  suddenly  seized  all  the  unhappy 
creatures.  With  renewed  strength  the  stoutest  plied  the 


THE  ARRIVAL.  41 

oars  ;  some  screamed  aloud,  with  a  mixture  of  ecstasy  and 
grief ;  others  prayed,  not  in  words,  but  in  the  dim,  pene- 
trating conviction  of  God?s  omnipotence  ;  with  difficulty 
several  once  active  men  raised  themselves  up  by  degrees  from 
the  bottom  of  the  boat,  where  they  had  lain  since  yesterday 
morning,  in  deathly  weakness,  speechless,  motionless.  One 
bold,  depraved  young  fellow,  who  in  his  despair  had  cursed 
God  and  man,  and  made  his  companions  shudder  by  the  con- 
tinual utterance  of  terrible  oaths,  burst  into  tears,  and  for 
the  first  time  in  his  dissolute,  abandoned  life,  a  feeling  of 
gratitude  to  God  shot  through  his  hardened  heart. 

When  the  boat  was,  at  length,  near  enough  to  the  shore 
to  make  it  safe  to  jump,  or  to  reach  the  firm  ground  by 
wading  through  the  morass,  there  was  not  one  whom  delight 
did  not  give  a  momentary  strength.  Some  of  them,  totally 
exhausted,  fell  into  the  shallow  water,  and  were  pulled  on 
shore  by  the  stronger  ones.  Only  one,  a  young  female,  pale 
as  death,  wrapped  in  a  wet  black  silk  cloak,  hung  round  by 
her  long  fair  loosened  hair  as  by  a  veil,  she  alone  stirred  not 
a  muscle,  not  a  feature  ;  and,  as  she  sat  cowering  there, 
gazing  before  her  in  apathetic  silence,  amidst  all  the  wild 
emotion  of  her  companions,  she  was  a  painful  picture  of  mute 
despair. 

The  sight  of  her  moved  a  good  old  sailor,  one  of  the  most 
active,  to  whose  strength  and  presence  of  mind,  the  others, 
inefficient  as  they  were,  owed  their  delivery. 

"  Poor  soul,"  he  said,  compassionately,  "  I  fear  all  is 
over  with  you  !"  And  as  she  did  not  answer  when  he  shook 
her,  and  only  gave  him  a  dull,  listless  glance,  when  he  called 
to  her  :  "  Here  is  the  land,  come  out,  madam  !" — he  said 
once  more  :  "  Poor  soul !"  and  lifted  her  up,  put  the  poor, 
exhausted  creature  across  his  shoulders,  just  as  one  might 
carry  a  bundle  of  clothes,  and  bore  her  on  shore.  Here 
he  put  her  down  in  a  dry  place,  drew  her  cloak  over  her 
tender,  naked  feet,  and  went  back  to  his  companions,  to 


42  THE   EXILES. 

consult  with  the  most  collected  ones,  about  what  was  farther 
to  be  done. 

Thanks  to  God,  it  was  no  inhospitable  shore  on  which 
they  had  been  cast.  To  the  north  of  the  little  cove,  a  wide 
strip  of  land  stretched  along  the  ocean,  the  broad  outer 
edge  of  which  glittered  in  the  morning  light  like  snow. 
Some  hundred  steps  from  the  beach,  a  steep  bank  rose  up  to 
no  great  height  ;  thick  woods  covered  the  upper  surface. 
There  was  no  egress  there.  But  on  the  beach  itself,  indistinct 
traces  of  horses'  hoofs  were  still  discernible  ;  boards  lay  scat- 
tered about,  and  a  hook  fastened  into  the  hard  ground,  and 
half-decayed  remains  of  net-work,  which  lay  near  by,  showed 
plainly  that  fishermen  had  been  busy  here,  and  that  there 
must  be  human  habitations  at  no  great  distance.  While 
some  of  the  party,  urged  by  a  gnawing  hunger,  dragged 
themselves  to  the  bank,  and  tried  to  ascend  it,  so  as  to  look 
in  the  woods  for  berries  and  herbs,  and  others  quenched  their 
burning  thirst  from  a  little  pool  of  water,  which  a  recent  rain 
had  left  in  a  hollow,  the  remainder  consulted  among  themselves, 
whether  they  should  row  farther  up  the  river,  or,  exhausted 
as  they  were,  drag  themselves  along  the  beach,  to  the  north. 
Before  they  had  come  to  a  decision,  God  sent  the  poor 
sufferers  help,  by  leading  in  that  direction  two  negroes,  who, 
with  their  guns  and  ample  provisions,  had  come  that  morning 
from  the  nearest  plantation,  to  this  beach,  for  the  purpose  of 
shooting  seafowl.  They  were  welcomed  with  cries  of  mingled 
joy  and  grief,  as  soon  as  they  came  in  sight.  As  they  ap- 
proached, they  were  quickly  surrounded,  and  so  many  wasted 
hands  were  eagerly  stretched  out  towards  the  provision  bags 
of  the  two  negroes,  so  many  sunken  eyes  fixed  beseechingly 
upon  them,  that  bread  and  meat  were  soon  prudently  divided  in 
small  portions,  and  the  brandy  by  drops,  among  the  crowd. 
Some  of  the  sailors  could  speak  English  to  the  negroes,  and 
understand  the  jargon  in  wh'ich  they  tried  to  comfort  the 
poor  unfortunates,  by  assuring  them  that  massa  was  a  grand 


THE   ARRIVAL.  43 

and  good  gentleman,  who  would  take  care  of  them,  and  give 
them  clothes  and  food  and  drink. 

After  the  provisions  had  been  distributed,  and  the  first 
curiosity  of  the  blacks  satisfied,  the  younger  of  them  proposed 
to  go  back  immediately  to  the  plantation,  to  procure  wagons 
and  horses  for  the  worn-out  sufferers,  and  whatever  else  they 
were  in  immediate  need  of.  All  who  could  still  use  their 
feet  were  eager  to  accompany  him,  but  when  it  had  been 
explained  to  them  that  massa's  house  and  stables  were  some 
hours'  distance  from  the  beach,  and  the  dwellings  of  his  slaves 
and  officials  still  farther  inland,  the  greater  part,  only  too 
conscious  of  their  weakness,  gave  up  the  idea.  Only  a  few 
of  the  stoutest  followed,  but  it  was  painful  to  see  how  one 
after  the  other  sank  down  by  the  way;  and,  at  length,  when 
he  had  quite  lost  sight  of  the  briskly  progressing  hunter,  sor- 
rowfully returned  to  his  companions. 

For  these,  meanwhile,  the  old  negro  had  shot  a  few  plovers 
and  gulls,  that  were  skimming  the  waves  near  the  shore. 
Every  lucky  shot  was  accompanied  by  joyful  shouts  from  the 
poor  starved  creatures  ;  ten  at  once  rushed  to  the  spot,  or 
waded  deep  into  the  water,  to  reach  the  fallen  bird,  to  pluck 
it,  and  clean  it  out  with  their  pocket-knives.  Others,  mean- 
while, had,  with  much  difficulty,  made  a  fire  with  the  boards 
that  lay  around,  and  cut  some  rude  spits  ;  and  whoever 
could  have  seen  the  crowd  of  miserable  creatures  crouching 
around  the  crackling  flame,  greedily  filling  their  famished 
stomachs,  and  rejoicing  over  their  deliverance  and  fair  pros- 
pects with  loud  voice  and  coarse  delight,  would  hardly  have 
recognised  in  them  the  half-despairing  wretches  of  the  night 
before. 

The  old  black,  who  felt  quite  comfortable  in  his  capacity 
of  benefactor,  sat  in  the  midst  of  them  like  a  king.  His 
good-natured  grin  showed,  under  a  nose  three  inches  broad, 
and  between  lips  that  seemed  swollen  with  blood,  two  rows 
of  dazzlingly  white  teeth,  so  enormous,  that  under  other  cir- 


44  THE   EXILES. 

cumstances,  the  women  would  certainly  have  been  afraid  of  him. 
He  informed  them  that,  as  some  of  the  experienced  seamen 
had  already  supposed,  they  were  in  Florida;  not  on  one  of  the 
countless  long  narrow  islands,  which  once,  without  doubt, 
connected  with  the  continent,  now  shield  it,  like  a  bulwark, 
from  the  rush  of  the  waves,  but  that  they  had  been  cast  upon 
one  of  the  few  coasts  of  the  state,  which  are  washed  by  the 
ocean  itself  in  all  its  glory;  and  that  this  belonged  to  Tallah- 
asota,  forty  or  fifty  miles  south  of  St.  Augustine.  And  at 
the  same  time  he  had  much  to  say  about,  and  in  praise  of  his 
master,  whose  name  was  Castleton,  but  who  was  generally 
called  Don  Alonzo,  or  Massa  Alonzo. 

While  this  was  going  on,  Clotilde — for  she  was  the  unfor- 
tunate young  woman  we  have  noticed — had  lain  insensible,  in  a 
deathlike  faint.  One  or  the  other  would  approach  her,  to  ofifer 
her  some  food,  but  all  turned  away  again,  some  because  they 
thought  her  dead,  others,  perhaps,  because  they  felt  dimly 
that  this  unconsciousness  was  a  blessing  for  the  poor  widowed 
one.  She  had  lain  for  several  hours,  on  the  hot  sand-bed,  in 
this  stupefied  condition,  when  she  felt  herself  taken  hold  of  by 
warm  hands,  and  lifted  up  by  a  strong  arm,  which  supported 
her  back.  Slowly,  raising  the  leaden  weight  of  the  lids  with 
difficulty,  she  opened  her  eyes.  They  fell  upon  a  noble, 
manly  face,  looking  at  her  kindly,  compassionately,  bending 
closely  over  her.  She  saw  Hubert's  features,  Hubert's  eye  ! 

For  a  few  moments  she  looked  deep,  deep  into  it,  and  a 
sweet  surprise  faintly  tinged  her  deathlike  cheeks. 

"  You  !"  she  at  length  whispered.  "  It  was  really  a 
dream,  I  have  you  back  again  !"  And  winding  her  arms 
about  his  neck  convulsively,  she  drew  him  down  to  her,  and 
his  cheek  was  wet  by  a  burning  tear. 

With  a  soft,  soothing  voice,  he  said,  gently  extricating 
himself  from  those  enchaining  arms  : 

"  Collect  yourself,  madam,  wake  up,  rouse  yourself  !" 

It  was  almost  Hubert's  rich,  manly,  sonorous  voice,  only 


THE   ARRIVAL.  45 

milder,  with  more  youthful  softness,  and  the  voice  did  not 
speak  the  familiar  German,  it  spoke  to  her  in  English. 
Speechlessly,  and  with  an  unnatural  smile,  she  gazed  at  him. 
Her  senses  were  bewildered.  Her  head  seemed  ready  to 
burst  open. 

"Madam,"  continued  the  stranger,  kindly,  "you  have 
been  long  unconscious. — A  few  words  will  bring  you  to  your- 
self ! — I  beseech  you — not  these  looks,  not  this  smile  !  Give 
way  to  your  sorrow,  your  tears,  try  to  remember  !  You 
were  shipwrecked,  separated  from  your  betrothed" — and, 
as  a  convulsive  shudder  came  over  her — "  but  your  friend 
may  live,  does  live — can  he  not  have  been  saved  as  well  as 
you  ? — Feel  of  yourself,  of  your  damp  clothes — look  around 
you  I  You  are  in  America,  in  the  United  States,  in  Florida. 
I  am  a  planter  of  this  state,  ready  to  aid  you  and  your  com- 
panions." 

While  the  stranger  was  speaking,  Clotilde  had  mechan- 
ically done  as  he  urged  her  to  do,  and,  by  feeling  and 
looking  around,  had  become  conscious  of  her  situation. 
But  more  than  anything  else,  a  close  examination  of  the 
man  himself  had  brought  her  to  her  senses.  No,  that 
was  not  Hubert,  his  form  was  taller  and  more  slender. 
The  great  softness  of  his  features  showed  an  age  which  had 
hardly  reached  maturity.  His  eye  had  not  the  clear,  proud, 
joyous  sparkle  of  Hubert's,  but  was  set  deep  in  the  shadow 
of  bushy  eye-brows;  only  a  moment's  expression  of  cordial 
benevolence  had  softened  its  consuming  fire  to  a  gentle 
melancholy.  Cheeks  and  brow  wore  the  yellowish  brown 
tinge  of  a  Southerner,  while,  before  the  prison  atmosphere 
had  paled  the  complexion  of  the  vigorous  German  youth,  a 
rich  rosy  colour  had  borne  witness  to  health  of  body  and 
soul.  Every  trace  of  resemblance  had  disappeared;  it  was 
only  in  delirium  that  she  could  have  been  thus  mistaken! 

But  now  the  dread  reality  came  over  her  with  all  its 
fearful  power.  She  started  up  wildly,  her  hands  convulsively 


46  THE   EXILES. 

tore  up  her  fair  hair  by  the  roots;  moaning  loudly,  she 
threw  herself  back  upon  the  ground,  turned  away  her  face, 
and  struck  her  tender  brow  against  a  sharp  stone.  She 
succeeded  in  her  dim  object  of  stupefying  herself  again. 
Another  deep  faint  and  total  unconsciousness  ensured  to  her 
once  more  several  hours  of  repose. 

The  young  planter,  seized  with  deep  compassion,  employed 
this  moment.  He  ordered  some  of  his  servants  to  bear  the 
young  lady  to  the  carriage,  which  stood  in  readiness,  and 
placed  in  it  also  the  other  three  women  who  were  among  the 
shipwrecked  company.  The  little  corpse  he  ordered  to  be 
wrapped  in  a  blanket,  and  promised  the  lamenting  mother, 
whose  wild  despair  had  now  given  way  to  quiet  tears,  to 
have  it  buried  in  his  own  cemetery.  The  men  were  all 
disposed  of  in  several  wagons  which  had  been  brought  for 
the  purpose;  he  himself  and  some  of  his  servants  hastened 
on  before  the  melancholy  procession  on  horseback. 

About  four  or  five  miles  from  the  shore,  near  a  river 
which  had  its  source  in  George's  Lake,  and  along  which  the 
road  wound  through  the  forest,  stood,  in  a  grove  of  orange, 
palm,  and  magnolia  trees,  the  hospitable  mansion  which  was 
the  destination  of  the  train  :  a  low,  spread-out  building, 
surrounded  by  a  broad  veranda,  up  the  pillars  of  which  the 
Multiflora-rose,  with  its  millions  of  buds,  clambered  in 
luxuriant  abundance.  The  grove  itself,  with  its  fresh  foliage 
and  sweetscented  blossoms,  seemed  like  an  oasis  in  the  sandy 
soil  of  a  boundless  fir  and  pine  forest.  But  Clotilde  was 
incapable  of  appreciating  "the  beauties  of  Nature  which 
surrounded  her.  She  was  put  into  the  hands  of  several 
coloured  females  ;  all  were  kindly  attended  to,  but  the 
beautiful  stranger,  whose  whole  appearance  indicated  a 
higher  rank  and  more  refined  education  than  that  of  her 
companions,  was  recommended  by  their  young  master  so 
decidedly  and  with  such  warm  sympathy  to  the  care  of  the 
best  and  most  experienced  of  the  handmaids,  that  they 


THE    ARRIVAL.  47 

lavished  upon  her  all  the   delicate  attentions  which  only  a 
woman's  hands  and  heart  can  give. 

Resting  on  swelling  pillows,  on  snowy  linen,  under  soft 
blankets  and  coverlets,  refreshed  by  restoratives  and  strength- 
ened by  nourishing  food,  Clotilde's  body  would  soon  have 
regained  a  certain  degree  of  ease,  and  her  mind  would  in 
consequence  have  had  to  bear  the  whole  immense  burden  of 
her  suffering,  had  not  kind  Nature  turned  her  unspeakable 
grief  into  the  channel  of  a  violent  fever,  which  robbed  her  for 
a  time  of  all  clear  consciousness.  Forms  of  a  foreign  clime 
moved  around  her,  strange  in  colour  and  features,  their 
heads  fancifully  bound  around  with  gay-coloured  stuffs,  with 
white  gauzy  wrappings  ;  a  language  which  hitherto  had  only 
spoken  to  her  from  the  kingdom  of  Poetry,  which  had  never 
mixed  for  her  in  the  everyday  scenes  of  life,  was  whispered 
around  her  by  low,  melodious  voices;  an  elderly  man  often 
stood  by  her  bed,  taking  her  hand,  feeling  her  forehead,  and 
looking  deep  into  her  eyes,  that  were  now  glazed,  now  spark- 
ling with  fever  ;  by  his  side  stood  a  more  familiar,  youthful 
form,  and  gazed  upon  her  with  deep  pity.  Between  these 
would  crowd  with  equally  palpable  reality  the  images  of  her 
past.  It  was  not  her  coloured  nurse,  it  was  her  mother,  who 
covered  her  and  smoothed  her  pillow;  it  was  her  father,  who, 
with  Hubert,  stood  by  her  bed,  and  felt  her  pulse.  Then, 
suddenly,  the  flames  rose  above  Hubert's  head;  she  heard 
the  voices  of  Stellmaun  and  Henrietta  crying  for  help,  she 
heard  the  sea  roar;  now  she  saw  Hubert  spring-  into  the 
water,  saw  him  sink  beneath  the  waves  ;  she  screamed  aloud, 
and  the  Baron  stood  close  before  her,  and  raised  his  warning 
voice  again.  Suddenly  a  tall,  noble-looking  woman,  dressed 
in  black,  approached  her.  She  bent  over  her,  and  made 
strange  motions  over  her  with  her  hands  ;  she  kissed  her 
forehead;  she  disappeared,  and  a  small  crucifix  remained  in 
her  own  hand;  then  Hubert  rose  up  from  the  waves,  and 
there  was  a  roaring  sound  around  her,  but  it  was  not  water 


48  THE   EXILES. 

that  was  fluctuating  about  her,  it  was  fire,  and  Hubert 
dragged  her  into  it,  and  the  Baron  struggled  with  him,  and 
would  have  saved  her,  until  she  drew  him  down  with  her  into 
the  sea  of  fire. 

Thus  the  delirium  of  fever  raged  for  weeks  fiercely  in  her 
brain,  and  nearly  two  months  passed  away,  before  the  disease 
was  broken  and  conquered  by  Clotilde's  strong  constitution, 
and  the  faithful  nursing  which  she  received.  Now  only  she 
became,  by  degrees,  conscious  of  her  isolated  situation,  now 
only  she  learned  to  feel  all  her  misery  ;  but  her  grief  had  be- 
come milder,  and  the  brighter  the  light  of  reason  began  to 
burn  within  her,  the  more  she  was  subdued  and  penetrated 
by  the  feeling  that  it  was  Godrs  hand  that  had  laid  this 
burden,  which  seemed  almost  too  heavy  for  her  shoulders  to 
bear,  upon  her,  and  that  He  would  help  her  carry  it. 

It  was  in  the  night  following  one  of  those  calm,  happy 
evenings  of  her  voyage,  that  she  was  suddenly  awakened 
from  her  sleep  by  wild,  fearful  screams  of  agony.  "  Fire  ! 
fire  !"  was  the  terrible  cry  that  met  her  ear,  and  the  whole 
ship  trembled  with  noisy  confusion,  screaming,  and  running 
to  and  fro.  She  sprang  from  her  bed,  and  threw  her  travel- 
ling cloak  over  her  long  night-dress.  Hardly  had  she  done 
so,  when  she  heard  Hubert's  voice  at  her  door  :  "  Open  to 
me,  Clotilde  1"  She  did  so.  He  was  pale,  but  was  almost 
entirely  dressed.  "  Come  with  me,  dearest !"  he  cried,  "  we 
have  yet  time  for  escape  !"  A  thick  smoke  already  filled  the 
room.  He  lifted  the  trembling  girl,  and  carried  her  from 
the  ladies'  cabin,  up  stairs,  where  friends  and  companions  in 
their  night-clothes  were  already  crowding  against  each  other 
in  complete  bewilderment. 

The  deck  was  in  flames.  The  body  of  the  ship  must  long 
have  been  burning  secretly,  treacherously  ;  now  the  fearful, 
ungovernable  flames  burst  forth  in  three  or  four  places  at 
once.  They  had  just  reached,the  topsail,  and  the  huge  mass 
of  fire  threw  a  blood-red  glare  upon  the  crowd  who  were 


THE   ARRIVAL.  49 

madly  huddled  together  on  the  quarter-deck,  rending  the  air 
with  their  shrieks.  It  was  a  terrible  scene.  All  were  rush- 
ing among  each  other  in  dread  confusion.  "  Help  !  save  us  I 
the  boats  I  water  !"  these  cries  resounded  from  all  sides,  and 
above  them  all  the  captain's  thundering  voice  was  heard 
giving  orders.  From  the  steerage,  the  stairs  of  which  were 
already  burning,  heart-rending  shrieks  came  up;  help  for  the 
poor  wretches  there  seemed  hardly  possible. 

Suddenly  the  foremast  fell,  its  foot  having  been  consumed 
by  the  flames  ;  new  screams  of  agony  rose  up,  as  it  brought 
down  with  it  the  captain  and  one  or  two  sailors,  here  crush- 
ing a  couple  of  limbs,  there  killing  instantly.-  The  vessel, 
shaken  in  all  its  joints,  suddenly  fell  upon  the  leeside;  with 
a  horrible  crash  the  woodwork  burst  asunder  ;  it  seemed  as 
if  the  mouth  of  Hell  had  opened.  All  was  lost  I 

The  boats  had  been  lowered  some  time  before.  The  long- 
boat, which  was  fastened  to  the  stern  of  the  ship,  was  already 
over-filled  ;  Stellmann  and  Henrietta  threw  themselves  into  it 
still,  but  such  crowds  pushed  between  them  and  Hubert  and 
Clotilde,  that  he  quickly  turned  with  her  to  the  other  boat, 
to  which  few  had  yet  repaired,  because  it  was  nearer  the  fire, 
but  into  which  the  mate  had  just  thrown  a  bread-basket,  and 
jumped  after  it  himself.  He  received  Clotilde  from  Hubert's 
arms.  She  was  safe.  He  was  about  to  follow  her,  but  sud- 
denly he  cried  :  "  Your  property,  Clotilde,  I  will  save  it  for 
you  !"  and  not  listening  to  her  agonized  call  of,  "  Come,  oh 
come  1"  he  ran  back  to  the  ladies'  cabin,  which  the  flames 
had  not  yet  reached,  although  a  thick  black  smoke  hung 
around  it. 

Clotilde  wrung  her  hands  in  fearful  agony  ;  he  waa  back 
again  in  a  few  moments,  but  they  had  been  enough  to  more 
than  fill  the  small  boat.  Those  who  had  first  entered  it  had 
long  been  calling  :  "  Push  off  1  Away  from  the  ship  !  We 
are  lost !"  and  the  long-boat,  over-filled  to  a  fearful  extent, 
was  already  cutting  the  fiery-red  waves  at  some  distance  off. 
3 


50  THE   EXILES. 

"  Don't  take  any  more  !"  cried  some.  "  The  boat  is  too 
full  !"  screamed  the  mate.  "Take  only  this  one!"  cried 
another,  touched  by  Clotilde's  grief.  Just  as  Hubert  was 
preparing  to  jump,  two  imploring  arms  embraced  his  knees; 
it  was  a  boy,  whose  leg  had  been  crushed  by  a  falling  beam  ; 
moaning  piteously,  he  had  rolled  himself  to  the  edge  of  the 
vessel,  to  reach  the  boat.  Filled  with  compassion,  Hubert 
took  the  little  sufferer  and  let  him  slide  down  among  the 
crowd  in  the  boat.  But  at  the  moment  when  he  sprang 
after  him,  it  pushed  off.  Hubert  fell  into  the  water.  The 
boat  shot  Avith  powerful  rapidity  from  the  vicinity  of  the 
burning  monster.  Hubert,  an  excellent  swimmer,  followed 
it.  "  The  boat  is  too  full  !"  was  the  cry  of  all,  as  they  held 
back  the  frantic  Clotilde.  "  Do  not  part  me  from  my  wife  !" 
implored  Hubert.  "Swim  to  the  other  boat  !"  cried  one; 
"  You  will  ruin  us  all  !"  another.  But  Hubert,  nevertheless, 
swam  after  the  boat,  exerting  all  his  force. 

Now  he  had  reached  it,  now  his  hand  grasped  the  edge. 
But  one  of  the  rowers,  in  fury,  struck  him  upon  the  fingers; 
they  were  broken  by  the  blow;  the  unhappy  man  sank. 
Now  he  came  up  again.  "  I  must  come  in  !"  he  cried.  "  Take 
him  in,"  said  some — "  We  shall  all  be  lost !"  was  the  mate's 
reply.  At  this  moment  one  of  the  men,  with  desperate  fury, 
dealt  him  a  terrible  blow  on  the  head  with  the  heavy  oar. 
The  Waves  met  over  the  head  of  the  daring  swimmer — his 
voice  broke  in  one  heart-rending  cry.  At  this  Clotilde's  eyes 
closed;  uttering  a  smothered  cry  of  woe,  she  sank  back  in- 
sensible. A  succession  of  terrible  shrieks  and  fearful  groans 
not  far  off,  recalled  her  for  a  moment  to  half-consciousness — . 
the  long-boat,  incapable  of  bearing  its  enormous  burden  any 
longer,  had  sunk.  The  fiery  glare  of  the  distant  burning  ship 
showed  them  now  the  corpses  of  the  drowned,  now  the  strug- 
gles of  the  swimmers. 

At  this  sight,  an  unspeakable  horror  seized  Clotilde's 
companions  ;  in  mute,  breathless  fright  they  rowed  away  from 


THE    ARRIVAL.  51 

the  swimmers — soon  every  human  sound  around  them  had  died 
away,  every  trace  of  their  fellow-sufferers  disappeared,  but 
for  miles  around  the  sea,  was  sparkling  in  the  fiery  glare 
thrown  off  by  that  huge  mass  of  flame,  the  burning  vessel, 
and  it  was  only  when  the  sun  stood  high  in  the  heavens  that 
the  reflection  ceased. 

There  was  a  moderate  wind  from  the  north.  They  had 
continued  to  row  towards  the  south-west,  where  the  most 
experienced  knew  they  should  find  land.  Their  provisions 
lasted  hardly  a  day.  Fright,  anxiety,  hunger,  soon  thinned 
their  ranks.  In  the  despair  of  an  inexpressible  agony,  Clo- 
tilde  implored  God  a  thousand  times  that  she  might  die,  and 
during  this  terrible  period  she  had  indeed  moments  when, 
mentally  and  physically  exhausted  to  the  last  degree,  she  be- 
lieved herself  near  her  end.  But  her  youthful  constitution 
struggled  through  those  horrors,  as  it  now  vanquished  the 
fury  of  a  nervous  fever. 

Long  after  the  actual  disease  was  broken,  she  was  obliged 
to  keep  her  bed,  utterly  exhausted,  in  a  darkened  room,  in 
perfect  quiet;  the  female  slaves  who  waited  upon  her,  walking 
on  tiptoe  and  speaking  in  whispers,  had  been  forbidden  by 
their  master  to  excite  her  by  any  questions  or  explanations. 
Thus  she  was  still  in  complete  ignorance  of  her  situation,  and 
of  those  who  surrounded  her,  when,  one  day,  at  length,  three 
months  after  that  fearful  catastrophe,  she  was  able,  seated 
in  an  arm-chair,  and  supported  by  pillows  and  bolsters,  to 
receive  her  young  host,  and  thank  him  for  his  generous 
hospitality. 

When  Alonzo  Castleton  entered  the  room  where  Clotilde 
sat,  he  was  deeply  touched  by  the  quiet  grief  which  hung 
over  her  features,  the  holy  expression  of  her  eye,  the  heavenly 
spirituality  which  pervaded  her  whole  being  He  had  already 
heard  from  her  companions  as  much  of  her  history  as  they 
knew  themselves.  The  latter,  at  their  own  wish,  had  been 
forwarded  by  him  to  St.  Augustine,  where  he  too  had  spent 


52  THE   EXILES. 

a  part  of  the  time  during  Clotilde's  illness.  She  thanked  him 
in  simple,  touching  words,  for  his  generous,  humane  conduct 
towards  her,  and  then  entreated  him  to  do  her  the  favour  of 
having  a  few  lines,  which,  with  trembling  hand,  she  had  writ- 
ten down,  inserted  in  all  the  principal  papers  of  the  North 
American  seaports.  It  was  a  request  to  F.  H.,  if  God  had 
rescued  him  from  the  wreck  of  the  Swan,  and  to  all  those 
who  knew  anything  of  him,  to  communicate  with  C.  0.  with- 
out delay,  through  an  address  which  she  begged  Alonzo  to 
determine. 

The  latter  looked  down,  then  raising  to  Clotilde  an  eye  full 
of  pity,  he  said  :  "  This  step,  my  dear  Miss  Osten,  is  one  that 
I  have  already  taken  three  months  ago,  without  asking  your 
permission.  I  must  beg  you  to  resign  yourself  patiently. 
There  has  been  no  answer.  Your  friend  cannot  be  alive." 

Clotilde  had  hardly  dared  to  entertain  even  a  dim  hope; 
had  she  not  herself  seen  the  waves  ingulf  her  beloved,  and 
the  only  possible  means  of  escape,  the  boat  ?  And  yet,  when 
she  heard  Alonzo's  words,  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  she  had  lost 
him  a  second  time.  She  covered  her  eyes  with  her  hands, 
and  sat  for  a  long  while  in  silence,  her  face  hidden,  until  the 
scalding  tears  stole  out  from  between  her  snowy  white,  thin, 
delicate  fingers. 

"  If  our  sympathy  can  afford  you  some  consolation,"  said 
Alonzo,  at  length,  "  let  me  assure  you  that  you  have  it,  in 
the  highest  degree.  My  mother,  too,  a  woman  who  has 
loved  and  suffered  immeasurably,  came  here  from  St.  Augus- 
tine, in  the  hope  of  being  able  to  do  something  for  you. 
Do  you  not  remember  having  seen  her  at  your  bedside,  Miss 
Osten?" 

"  Your  mother  ?  Many  a  kind,  careful  form  has  appeared 
to  me,  without  my  being  able  to  distinguish  what  was  dream 
and  what  reality.  I  do  recollect  a  fair,  tall  lady,  with  mel- 
ancholy in  her  eye,  and  dressed  in  mourning.  Was  this  your 
mother  ?" 


THE   ARRIVAL.  53 

"  It  was.  Her  whole  appearance  and  manner  wear  the 
impress  of  the  grief  which  she  bears  through  life,  the  life 
that  is  a  burden,  a  penance  to  her,  and  whose  rich  gifts  the 
poor  unhappy  woman,  with  fanatical  perseverance,  refuses  to 
enjoy." 

"  Oh  !"  cried  Clotilde,  painfully  excited,  "  where  is  she, 
the  dear  sufferer  ?  She,  she  will  understand  me  !  The  un- 
fortunate are,  as  it  were,  bound  together  by  a  kindred  tie  !" 

"  A  hateful,  self-imposed  duty  summoned  her  from  your 
sick-bed  to  the  convent  of  Santa  Lucia.  For  the  period  com- 
menced, during  which,  for  eighteen  years  past,  she  subjects 
herself,  in  consequence  of  a  stern  vow,  to  a  cruel  penance  for 
an  imaginary  sin." 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,"  said  Clotilde,  her  interest 
roused. 

"  For  the  sin,"  replied  Alonzo,  with  a  bitter  smile,  "  of 
having  once  loved  and  become  the  wife  of  a  heretic. 

"  Is  it  possible  ?"  cried  she  ;  "  then  you  are  a  Roman 
Catholic  ?" 

"  Not  so,"  he  replied  ;  "  I  belong  to  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, as  my  father  and  grandfather  did  before  me.  But  my 
mother  is  of  Spanish  descent  ;  her  ancestors  belong  to  the 
conquerors  of  this  land,  which,  as  you  may  know,  came  into 
the  possession  of  the  English  only  in  the  last  century,  and  not 
into  that  of  the  United  States  until  this  one.  The  Roman 
Church  had  always  possessed  in  my  grandmother,  a  passionate, 
imperious  woman,  one  of  her  most  devoted  daughters,  and  my 
poor  mother,  too,  the  older  she  grows,  seems  to  follow  more 
and  more 'this  unfortunate  course,  since  she  was  startled,  by 
a  most  cruel  hand,  from  the  short  dream  of  her  love,  from 
which,  as  it  were,  she  tore  herself  with  her  own  power.  Only 
that,  with  her  gentle  heart,  religion  takes  a  different  form  ; 
that,  while  it  drove  my  grandmother  to  a  spiritual  pride,  to 
a  love  of  persecution,  to  a  fanatic  hatred,  it  has  bruised  my 
mother's  noble  soul  to  its  inmost  core." 


54  THE    EXILES. 

"  Tell  me  all,"  said  Clotilde,  when  her  host  stopped  ;  "do 
not  think  that  misfortune  has  made  me  so  selfish  as  to  let  me 
feel  only  for  myself." 

"  On  thii  contrary,"  replied  Alonzo,  "  I  hope,  by  the  story 
of  my  mother's  affliction,  to  succeed  in  diverting  your 
thoughts  from  your  own  for  a  short  time.  But  you  must 
first  grow  stronger,  calmer.  I  hope  now  to  be  allowed  to 
see  you  often,  and  my  mother  too  will  return,  as  the  hostess 
of  tliis  house,  and  thus  make  it  more  agreeable  to  you." 

Alouzo  now  visited  the  convalescent  every  day.  Weeks 
passed,  before  the  severe  penance  of  Donna  Josepha — this 
was  his  mother's  name — was  ended  ;  but  as  Tallahasota  had 
no  neighbours  within  a  circuit  of  twenty  or  thirty  miles, 
the  fact  of  a  fiery  youth  and  a  beautiful  girl  living  alone  to- 
gether, could  not  be  made  the  subject  of  unkind  remarks. 

Clotilde's  state  of  mind  during  this  time  might  be  difficult 
to  describe  ;  it  was  dreamy,  listless,  bewildered.  Her  senses 
threatened  to  burst  their  bounds  when  she  tried  to  realize 
her  nearest  past;  her  future  lay  before  her,  a  long,  dark 
night;  and  thus  she  endeavoured  forcibly,  mechanically  as  it 
were,  to  live  only  for  the  day,  for  the  moment.  Constant  in- 
tercourse with  a  noble  youth,  whose  grace  of  manner  pleased 
her,  whose  generosity  and  premature  manliness  won  her 
esteem,  could  not  endanger  her.  Her  heart  lay  buried  in  the 
depths  of  the  ocean.  To  live,  to  breathe,  was  for  her  a  duty. 
She  had  no  wish  left  to  be  happy. 

Alonzo's  situation  was  more  critical.  The  daily,  ex- 
clusive intercourse  with  so  lovely  a  being,  whose  natural 
charms  illness  and  sorrow  had  only  made  more  •  touching, 
more  interesting;  so  full  of  resignation  to  God,  and  gratitude 
towards  him,  God's  instrument,  for  a  gift  which  now  could 
only  be  a  burden  to  her;  so  full  of  moral  dignity,  which  ex- 
cluded as  a  matter  of  course  any  familiarity — this  could  not 
but  have  had  the  effect  of  rousing  the  feelings  of  the  passion- 
ate, excitable  Southerner,  had  not  Alonzo,  from  his  early 


THE    ARRIVAL.  55 

childhood,  been  betrothed  to  his  fair  cousin,  Virginia  Castle- 
ton,  whose  charms  and  capricious  humour  alone  served  to 
retain  him  iu  a  magic  circle,  from  which  he  would  have  en- 
deavoured in  vain  to  escape,  even  if  a  certain  innate  reveren- 
tial feeling* — a  quality  which  he  owed  to  the  Spanish  blood 
which  flowed  in  his  veins — had  not  forbidden  him  to  make 
such  an  attempt. 

Their  intercourse,  therefore,  remained  entirely  within  the 
bounds  of  friendship.  Clotilde  communicated  her  former  his- 
tory to  her  host  only  in  the  most  general  outlines.  His  total 
ignorance  of  the  state  of  affairs  in  Germany,  would  have 
made  a  detailed  explanation  necessary,  which  would  have 
been  too  painful  to  her.  She  therefore  only  told  him  that 
she  was  from  Germany,  that  she  had  been  about  to  emigrate 
with  a  party  of  friends,  that  their  hastened  departure  had  pre- 
vented her  from  being  married,  before  they  sailed,  to  the 
man  to  whom  she  had  for  years  been  engaged,  and  that  she 
had  also  lost  all  her  property  by  the  shipwreck.  Alonzo  saw 
in  all  this  nothing  extraordinary;  he  knew  that  thousands  of 
German  emigrants  arrive  at  the  seaports  of  the  United 
States  every  day.  He  did  not  think  of  inquiring  after  her 
motives ;  as,  indeed,  there  are  few  Americans,  who  do  not 
see  a  sufficient  motive  in  the  supposed  conviction  that  their 
country  is  better  than  any  other,  and  the  wish  to  live  in  the 
land  of  liberty.  Only  when  Clotilde— when  time  had  calmed 
her  a  little — one  day  requested  him  to  forward  a  letter  for 
her  to  a  commercial  house  in  New  York,  to  which  she  had 
had  letters  of  credit,  and,  in  asking  his  advice  as  to  the  course 
she  had  better  pursue  about  this,  named  the  large  sums  for 
which  they  had  stood,  he  was  evidently  surprised,  and  went 
about  the  business  immediately,  with  great  interest. 

When  Alonzo  and  the  fair  stranger  were  together,  it  was 

*  The  feeling  which  we  would  designate  .is  best  expressed  by  the  Latiu 
"  pietas,"  ("  Pius  JEneas");  there  is  no  word  for  it  in  the  English  language. 


56  THE    EXILES. 

usually  the  former  who  had  the  most  to  tell,  and  his  family 
history — which  by  degrees  he  related  to  Clotilde — could  not 
but  have  the  beneficial  effect  that  he  promised  himself  from 
it  ;  namely,  that  of  diverting  her  from  herself  and  her  mis- 
fortune. We  will  tell  it  here  in  a  few  words. 


ALONZO   AND   HIS   FAMILY.  57 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ALONZO    AND     HIS     FAMILY. 

ALONZO'S  ancestors,  on  his  mother's  side,  had  come  to 
Florida,  with  Don  Pedro  Melendez,  in  the  year  1565; 
had  joined  him  in  attacking  and  cruelly  massacring  the  un- 
fortunate Huguenots,  who  had  peacefully  established  them- 
selves here — and,  as  he,  in  his  bigoted  frenzy,  had  boasted, 
"  this  was  not  done  to  the  French,  but  to  the  Lutherans." 
When,  some  years  later,  the  brave  Gascon  knight,  Domi- 
nique de  Gourgas,  went  on  an  expedition  to  Florida,  for  the 
purpose  of  avenging  his  countrymen,  the  two  Losadas — this 
was  the  name  of  Alonzo's  ancestors — escaped  the  bloody  re- 
tribution, for  they  had  already  gone  on  new  adventures,  and 
were  in  Venezuela,  aiding  their  uncle  Diego  to  found  St. 
lago  de  Leon  de  Caracas.  One  of  them,  however,  who  was 
also  named  Diego,  returned  to  Florida,  took  possession  of  the 
extensive  lands  which  had  been  presented  to  Melendez  and 
his  followers  by  the  king  of  Spain  as  a  reward  for  their  en- 
terprise; and  though,  for  two  centuries,  the  sons  of  the  family 
were  first  sent  to  old  Spain,  and  more  lately  to  the  capitals  of 
the  Spanish  colonies  for  education;  still  Louisiana  and  West- 
ern Florida  remained  the  chief  places  of  residence  of  this  branch 
of  it,  and  the  post  of  captain-general,  or  other  royal  offices, 
were  generally  held  by  the  Losadas,  or  their  near  relations. 

A  quiet  possession  could  not  be  thought  of,  the  Indian 
tribes   of  the  peninsula  being  particularly  wrell  prepared  for 
war  ;   but  it  was  first  deemed  necessary  to  win  the  friend- 
3* 


58  THE    EXILES. 

ship  of  the  latter  by  treaties  and  alliances,  when,  in  the 
second  quarter  of  the  eighteenth  century,  the  English  settled 
in  Georgia,  and  these  were  looked  upon  as  the  more  danger- 
ous enemy  of  the  two.  The  warlike  colonists  of  Florida  and 
Georgia  did  not  wait  for  the  war  which  soon  broke  out  be- 
tween their  mother-countries  ;  bloody  feuds,  worthy  of  the 
wildest  portions  of  the  Middle  Ages,  carried  on  between  the 
two  provinces,  preceded  it,  and  did  not  even  cease  when 
peace  was  at  length  declared.  But  when  the  spirit  of  the 
age,  by  degrees,  gained  a  certain  influence  even  over  the 
Spanish  colonies  ;  when  the  Floridians,  yielded  to  Great 
Britain  in  the  peace  of  Paris,  had  felt,  though  only  for 
twenty  short  years,  the  blessing  of  an  active  and  enlight- 
ened government  ;  when,  at  length,  they  saw  the  states 
around  them,  who  had  freed  themselves,  flourishing  in  com- 
merce and  wealth,  and  compared  their  condition  with  their 
own  ;  there  was  more  than  one  among  the  few  most  influential 
planters  of  Spanish  Florida,  who,  weary  of  the  long  night, 
longed  to  share  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  young  day  of  freedom. 
The  Losadas  belonged  to  the  few  high  families  who  had 
remained  in  the  country  during  the  English  dominion.  Don 
Alonzo  Losada,  the  possessor  of  immense  tracts  of  land,  ex- 
tensive enough  to  form  a  principality,  had  been  moulded,  by 
travelling  and  a  long  residence  in  England  and  the  United 
States,  into  an  educated,  enlightened  man.  He  was  the  last  of 
his  family,  in  whom  all  the  wealth  of  its  different  branches  was 
united,  an  only  daughter  his  heiress.  He  was  the  only  rich 
man  in  the  land,  for  the  inhabitants  of  both  Floridas  were 
mostly  poor,  and  without  means  of  support  ;  and  he  was,  there- 
fore, a  man  of  almost  princely  importance.  From  far  and  near 
came  suitors  for  the  hand  of  his  daughter  ;  as  Spaniards  and 
Catholics,  they  seemed  to  have  the  best  claim  ;  but  Don 
Alonzo  rejected  them  all,  and  chose  a  son-in-law  from  among 
the  young  planters  of  his  neighbour-state,  Georgia.  His 
name  was  William  Castleton,  and  he  was  descended — as 


ALOXZO    AND    n is    FAMILY.  59 

Alonzo  assured  Clotilde — from  one  of  the  oldest  English 
families,  a  younger  sou  of  which  had  settled  there  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  last  century. 

Indeed,  our  German  friend  often  noticed,  with  a  secret 
smile,  what  an  undue  importance  this  son  of  a  democratic 
republic  attached  to  a  noble  descent,  and  distinguished 
family-connections.  A  longer  residence  in  the  United  States 
taught  her  that  there  is  no  land  in  the  world  where  high 
birth,  and  consequential,  fashionable  connections,  are  more 
valued  than  in  democratic  America. 

Lucia  Losada,  the  daughter  of  Don  Alonzo,  was  still 
young,  when,  according  to  Spanish  custom,  without  consult- 
ing the  inclination  of  the  bride,  her  father  married  her  to  the 
husband  he  had  chosen.  Her  objection — accompanied  by 
every  sign  of  abhorrence — "  that  Castleton  was  a  heretic," 
her  father  answered  with  the  admonition  to  convert  him. 
But  Lucia,  imperious,  passionate,  bigoted  to  the  highest  de- 
gree, was  not  the  person  to  allure  any  one  into  the  precincts 
of  the  "  only  true  church."  Poor  Castleton  soon  came  to  the 
conviction  that  she  not  only  abhorred  the  heretic,  despised 
the  English  colonist  in  him,  but  also  that  she  was  passion- 
ately devoted  to  a  certain  Spanish  officer,  whose  claims  he 
had  rejected  in  a  bloody  duel.  Xo  persuasion,  no  commands, 
could  induce  her  to  leave  Florida  and  her  paternal  posses- 
sions, on  which  she  considered  her  husband  an  intruder. 
Here  she  reigned  supreme,  with  a  sceptre  of  iron.  For  her 
son,  who,  by  the  marriage-contract,  was  educated  in  his 
father's  church,  she  contracted  an  unnatural  hatred.  He 
grew  up  at  some  school  in  the  States,  married  a  fair  plant- 
er's daughter  in  South  Carolina,  and  devoted  himself  chiefly 
to  this  state. 

The  daughter,  Donna  Josepha,  afterwards  the  mother 
of  Clotilde's  friend,  Alonzo,  could  not  be  taken  from  her.  At 
a  very  early  age  she  was  put  in  a  convent,  where  her  mother, 
whose  severity  caused  her  child  to  look  up  to  her  with  fear 


60  THE   EXILES. 

and  trembling,  visited  her  often;  her  kind,  pitying  father,  who, 
when  he  was  not  in  Washington,  lived  in  Georgia,  less  fre- 
quently. In  her  sixteenth  year,  and  beautiful  as  an  open- 
ing rose,  Josepha  returned  to  the  house  of  her  mother,  just 
when  the  latter  was  in  the  most  furious  state  of  mind  at  the 
prospect  of  seeing  Florida  yielded  up  to  the  United  States, 
and  thus  falling  entirely  into  the  hands  of  the  heretics.  Ever 
since  the  other  American  colonies  had  broken  loose  from  their 
mother  country,  there  had  been  a  complete  anarchy  in 
Florida,  and  every  friend  of  the  country  necessarily  longed 
for  a  well-regulated  government.  But  Donna  Lucia  de- 
clared that  even  a  state  of  insurrection  was  preferable  to  a 
dominion  of  heretics.  As  soon  as  the  first  steps  towards 
taking  possession  of  Florida,  though  only  half-official,  had 
been  taken  at  Washington,  and  when  the  wild  Senfinoles 
rose  up  to  be  a  support  to  the  weakness  of  the  Spaniards, 
she  had  removed  to  St.  Augustine,  to  take  sides  with 
Governor  Estrada.  Her  wrath  against  her  husband,  whom 
she  supposed  to  be  an  instigator  of  the  project,  reached  an 
unnatural  height.  She  did  not  allow  a  word  of  English  to 
be  spoken  in  her  vicinity,  she  sent  away  her  negroes,  most 
of  whom  had  been  brought  from  Anglo-American  Georgia, 
and  surrounded  herself  with  that  mixed  breed  peculiar  to  all 
Spanish  colonies,  whose  veins  are  filled  in  nearly  equal  parts 
with  Indian,  European,  and  African  blood. 

Four  or  five  years  after  this,  when  Josepha  left  the  con- 
vent, she  found  her  mother  on  one  of  her  loveliest,  most 
flourishing  plantations,  on  Amelia  Island,  at  the  mouth  of 
the  St.  Mary  river.  She  had  only  recently  gone  there,  and 
as  it  had  already  been  reported  from  New  Grenada,  that  an 
expedition  was  in  preparation  there  "  for  liberating  the  two 
Floridas,"  and  as  the  islands  which  guard  the  coast  in  this 
region  like  a  dam,  would  be  particularly  exposed  to  attack, 
this  step  of  Donna  Lucia  excited  some  surprise  and  much 
suspicion.  Very  soon,  indeed,  the  island  was  occupied  by  a 


ALOXZO   AND   HIS   FAMILY.  61 

company  of  adventurers,  of  whom  it  has  never  been  clearly 
discovered  on  what  authority  they  acted.  They -professed 
themselves  commissioned  by  "  the  supreme  government  of 
Mexico  and  South  America,"  and  took  possession  of  the 
island  in  the  name  of  the  united  provinces  of  New  Grenada 
and  Venezuela.  Donna  Lucia  bade  them  welcome,  invited 
the  officers  to  her  house  in  Fernandina,  and  remarked  freely, 
that  as  her  rightful  king  had  given  her  up,  she  would  at  least 
be  on  friendly  terms  with  such  as  had,  like  her,  Castilian 
blood  in  their  veins.  Josepha  looked  at  the  rude,  wild  fel- 
lows with  a  shudder.  She  timidly  asked  her  mother  whether 
all  soldiers  looked  as  she  had  always  fancied  only  bandits 
did.  But  if  Donna  Lucia,  as  was  the  general  suspicion,  had 
really  played  a  part  in  this  enterprise,  she  was  to  be  severely 
punished  for  it. 

For  this  unauthorized  occupation  led  the  United  States, 
which  had  long  been  in  negotiation  with  Spain  about  the  pur- 
chase of  Florida,  to  rapid  action.  A  man-of-war  suddenly 
landed  in  Fernaudina,  United  States  troops  covered  the 
whole  island,  drove  back  the  former  occupants,  far  less  than 
they  in  number,  without  a  struggle,  and  raised  the  American 
flag  in  sight  of  Donna  Lucia's  house. 

Among  these  troops  there  was  a  young  Englishman  as 
volunteer,  who,  at  the  peace  between  America  and  Great 
Britain,  had  gone  into  the  service  of  the  former  power,  and 
taken  part  in  the  bloody  war  with  the  Seminoles  under  Jack- 
son. The  manners  of  the  American  officers,  but  particularly 
the  brilliant  appearance  of  this  young  man,  necessarily  gave 
Donna  Josepha  a  totally  different  idea  of  a  true  soldier. 
Donna  Lucia  scornfully  repulsed  all  the  civilities  of  the  new 
corners;  the  doors  of  her  house  were  closed  to  them,  and  if 
she  was  riding  with  her  daughter  upon  the  beach,  and  met 
the  officers,  who  saluted  them  respectfully,  she  would  turn 
away  her  head.  But  these  rides,  the  walks  to  church,  the 
Christmas  solemnities,  which  were  just  commencing,  gave 


62  THE   EXILES. 

ample  occasion  for  meetings,  signs,  speaking,  and,  finally,  an 
understanding. 

Love,  in  the  South,  progresses  quickly;  obstacles  and  se- 
cresy  make  the  path  alluring,  instead  of  deterring  from  it. 
Alonzo  Castleton  passed  rather  hastily  over  this  part  of  his 
story,  when  he  was  telling  it  to  Clotilde.  "  My  father,"  he 
said,  "  was  of  noble  birth — he  could  not  otherwise  have  been 
an  English  officer  ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  he  was  attached 
to  his  church.  He  could  never  hope  for  Donna  Lucia's  con- 
sent. As  for  my  grandfather,  he  had  been  for  some  time 
occupying  the  post  of  ambassador  from  the  United  States  to 
Spain.  My  grandmother's  anger,  w.hen  she  discovered  her 
daughter's  love-intrigue,  increased  the  passion  of  the  latter 
to  such  a  degree,  that  she  consented  to  a  secret  marriage, 
hoping  from  month  to  month  for  her  father's  return.  But 
Heaven  blesses  no  union  on  which  rests  a  mother's  curse. 
The  time  for  my  birth  approaching,  uiy  parents  were  forced 
to  lift  the  veil  from  their  secret  sooner  than  they  had- intended. 
To  protect  my  poor  mother  from  the  fury  of  Donna  Lucia,  who 
even  lowered  herself  to  personal  ill-treatment,  my  father  car- 
ried her  off  secretly,  and  took  her  to  Pensacola,  where  Gen- 
eral Jackson  was  stationed — a  journey  which,  at  that  time, 
on  account  of  the  disturbances  in  the  interior  by  the  Semi- 
noles,  could  only  be  made  by  sea.  I  was  little  more  than  a 
year  old,  when  my  grandfather  returned,  and,  almost  at  the 
same  time,  my  father  died.  His  death  seems  to  have  been 
attended  by  very  unfortunate  circumstances.  My  timid  hand 
dares  not  unveil  this  mystery. 

My  mother,  for  some  time,  gave  way  to  the  deepest  des- 
pair. A  daughter,  who  had  only  been  born  some  weeks 
before  the  sad  news  reached  her,  was  sacrificed  by  it.  She 
died  when  but  a  few  months  old,  and  my  mother's  life,  from 
this  moment,  was  spent  in  unconquerable  grief,  remorse  and 
penance;  for  my  grandmother,  through  her  confessor,  had 


ALONZO   AND   HIS   FAMILY.  63 

worked.upon  her  daughter's  mind  so^much,  that  she  too  began 
to  look  upon  her  union  with  a  heretic,  which  God  had 
punished  so  plainly  by  a  speedy  dissolution,  as  a  sin.  Soon 
after  this,  my  grandfather  came  to  Florida.  He  felt  the 
deepest  compassion  for  his  unhappy  daughter,  and  wished  to 
take  her  with  him  to  Georgia,  so  as  to  remove  her  entirely 
from  her  cruel  mother.  But  she,  poor  woman,  biassed  by  the 
prejudices  of  her  church,  would  not  go  among  the  heretics. 
She  preferred  to  take  up  her  residence  in  a  convent  at  St. 
Augustine,  where  I,  the  object  of  much  tenderness  from  the 
good  nuns,  passed  the  first  years  of  my  childhood  very  hap- 
pily, and  was  even  allowed  to  see  my  grandmother  from  time 
to  time.  When,  a  few  years  after,  the  latter  died,  my  grand- 
father made  my  mother  a  present  of  this  plantation,  on  which 
we  now  are,  and  she  spent  here  some  months  of  every  year. 
Me  he  took  with  him,  had  me  educated  at  a  good  school  in 
Philadelphia,  and  at  college  in  Cambridge,  and,  when  he  died, 
divided  his  property  in  equal  parts  between  my  mother  and 
his  son,  who  was  at  that  time  Governor  of  South  Carolina. 
With  the  latter  he  had  already  before  made  the  agreement 
that  his  fortune  should  be  re-united  by  the  marriage  of  his 
grandson  with  one  of  his  grand-daughters.  In  order  to  do 
away  with  every  recollection  of  my  poor  mother's  misfortune, 
I  was  called,  with  the  consent  of  my  uncle,  by  the  family- 
name  of  my  mother,  Alonzo  Castleton." 

"  And  have  you  never  wished,"  asked  Clotilde,  "  to  seek 
out  your  father's  relatives  ?  Has  your  heart  never  drawn 
you  to  England,  so  as  to  hear  more  of  them  ?" 

"  I  was  too  young,  when  he  died,  to  have  learned  to  love 
him.  Every  question  about  him  made  my  mother's  wound 
bleed  afresh.  P*erhaps,  at  some  future  time,  when  the  cold 
earth  cover§  her  burning  grief,  I  may  go  to  England,  and  try 
if  I  cannot  find  a  grandfather  or  grandmother  whose  heart 
will  beat  for  the  poor,  desolate  Creole." 


64  THE   EXILES. 

A  melancholy  smile  apcompanied  these  words  of  Alonzo's. 
He  changed  the  subject,  and  never  spoke  of  his  father  again. 
We  need  hardly  remark  that  Clotilde,  too,  was  silent  upon 
this  point. 


STILL-LIFE.  65 


CHAPTER  Y. 

STILL-LIFE. 

¥ITH  such  conversations  as  these,  time  passed  heavily  and 
sadly  on.  When  once  the  disease  was  broken,  Clotilde's 
healthy,  youthful  nature  recovered  itself  with  remarkable  ra- 
pidity. She  could  soon  sit  up  all  day,  and  walk  to  and  fro 
on  the  broad,  lofty  veranda,  and,  at  length,  drink  in  the  cool, 
balmy  air  from  the  cupola  at  the  top  of  the  house.  The 
bloody  Seminole  war  was  still  raging  at  the  south  of  the 
Peninsula.  The  north-east  coast,  and,  indeed,  the  whole  re- 
gion between  the  sea  and  George's  Lake,  where  Tallahasota 
lay,  seemed  secure;  still,  there  had  been  instances  that 
treachery  was  lurking  in  the  midst  of  the  wigwams  of  the 
apparently  friendly  Indians.  The  militia  had  therefore  been 
called  upon  to  protect  the  plantations  against  the  possible  at- 
tacks of  these  tribes.  Alonzo,  young  as  he  was,  filled  the 
rank  of  captain  in  it,  and,  as  Justice  of  the  Peace,  was  one 
of  the  magistrates  of  the  place.  The  necessary  arrangements 
for  the  alimentation  and  proper  division  of  the  troops,  often 
kept  him  away  from  home  over  night.  Directly  behind  the 
habitations  of  his  slaves,  which  were  pleasantly  situated  among 
palm  trees  and  magnolias,  an  immense,  luxuriant  savannah 
spread  out  to  the  south-west,  the  outer  edge  of  which,  fringed 
by  thick  woods,  had  always  to  be  guarded  by  a  watch. 
Alonzo  Castletou  rode  here  and  there;  he  had  meetings  with 
the  neighbouring  planters — and  neighbours  in  Florida  often 
have  considerable  tracts  of  land  between  them — or  he  went 


66  THE   EXILES. 

to  Yolusia,  to  learn  the  latest  intelligence  from  the  general 
of  the  troops  stationed  there. 

His  activity  won  Clotilde's  whole  esteem.  She  had  long 
since  recognised  the  noble  nature  in  him,  and  the  maturity  of 
manhood  in  the  youth  of  twenty.  There  was  a  depth  of  pas- 
sion in  him  that  contrasted  strangely  with  a  certain  want  of 
energy.  His  outward  appearance  bore  the  same  stamp.  A 
dark  fire  glowed  in  his  eye,  his  features  were  noble,  his  brow 
thoughtful ;  but  his  sallow  complexion,  the  dark  shadow  under 
his  eyes,  his  indolent  gait,  and  the  want  of  flesh  on  his  well- 
formed  limbs,  made  one  miss  the  freshness  and  vigour  of  a 
Northern  youth.  He  needed  an  outward  impulse  to  stir  him 
to  action. 

Clotilde,  meanwhile,  lived  in  perfect  solitude,  in  which, 
with  her  body,  her  soul,  too,  slowly  recovered  its  tone. 
She  felt  plainly  that  she  must  come  to  a  decision,  that  she 
must  take  some  step  ;  that  she  could  not,  through  the  whole 
remainder  of  her  crushed  existence,  be  the  guest  of  this 
young  man.  To  return,  so  poor,  so  destitute,  to  her  native 
land,  which,  as  she  well  knew,  she  had  left  against  the  appro- 
bation of  all  her  friends — after  her  last  interview  with  her 
guardian,  to  meet  him  again,  in  such  deep  affliction — this,  she 
felt,  was  impossible  !  She  could  not  even  write,  so  exclu- 
sively were  her  thoughts  directed  to  the  one,  the  lost !  "  Let 
them  mourn  for  me,  thinking  me  dead,  those  good  friends," 
she  said  to  herself;  "  for  am  I  not  dead  to  the  world,  to  life  ?" 

She  at  length  concluded  to  wait,  before  forming  a  plan 
for  the  future,  for  the  answer  which  she  had  long  been  expect- 
ing from  the  house  in  New  York  to  which  she  had  written. 
She  knew  that  she  could  not  repay  Alonzo,  but  she  could 
restore  to  him  the  money  he  had  spent  for  her  physician,  her 
medicine,  and  the  materials  which  he  had  ordered  from  St. 
Augustine  for  her  necessary  wardrobe.  She  must  reward  the 
faithful  servants  who  had  nursed  her  and  worked  for  her.  She 
was  not  impatient  for  the  answer.  She,  who  had  always  been 


STILL-LIFE.  67 

so  active,  so  avaricious  of  her  time,  now  spent  her  sad  exist- 
auce  in  a  state  of  dull  apathy,  disturbed  by  nothing  but  a  dim 
dread  of  being  roused  from  it,  and  forced  to  action  by  some 
intelligence,  some  occurrence. 

The  excitement  of  the  world,  the  pressure  of  business,  the 
claims  of  society,  can  only  lull  our  grief  to  sleep,  not  heal  it  ; 
but  solitude,  too,  is  only  salutary  to  the  contented  mind,  to 
which  it  gives  time  for  contemplation  ;  or  to  a  bewildered  one, 
which  it  teaches  to  collect,  to  understand  itself.  To  the  heart 
that  mourns  over  an  unalterable  misfortune,  an  irreparable 
loss,  it  affords  no  consolation.  Love  alone  can  console  for 
lost  love,  and  the  sympathy,  the  pity  of  friends,  that  kindly 
puts  an  end  to  the  fatal  brooding  over  that  which  is  irrecover- 
ably lost,  and  prevents  the  sufferer,  with  gently  restraining 
hand,  from  tearing  the  healing  bandage  of  time  from  the 
bleeding  heart.  Clotilde,  in  her  solitude,  had  but  one  com- 
forter— the  best  comforter — God.  To  Him,  whose  hand,  as 
she  felt  in  painful  resignation,  had  surely  been  laid  so  heavily 
upon  her  only  for  her  true  good,  to  Him  she  gave  up  her  soul 
entirely.  But  the  consolation  that  we  find  in  God,  can  only 
draw  us  closer  to  Him  ;  it  cannot  make  us  love  life  and  the 
world  again. 

And  so  Clotilde's  soul,  too,  was  loosened  more  and  more 
from  all  active  connection  with  the  world.  For  hours  she 
would  sit  in  the  cupola  of  the  house,  and  look  out  upon  the 
rich,  fragrant  country,  and  upon  the  wide,  boundless  ocean, 
which  rolled  so  calmly  and  holily  in  majestic  waves,  and  never- 
theless was  the  grave  of  her  beloved  one.  And  how  enticingly 
did  Nature  display  before  her  Earth's  voluptuous  charms.  The 
mansion-house  of  Tallahasota  lay  on  one  of  those  lovely  hills 
known  in  Florida  by  the  name  of  uplands,  a  gently  rising 
slope  of  rich,  fruitful  clayey  soil,  covered  with  noble,  beautiful 
trees  of  every  kind,  and  looming  out,  as  we  have  said  before, 
like  an  oasis  from  the  sandy  tracts  of  pine-forest  that  extended 
for  miles  around.  The  magnolia  graudiflora,  with  its  majestic 


68  THE   EXILES. 

height,  and  its  magnificent,  giant  flowers,  which  had  grown, 
as  it  were,  from  a  gigantic  Past  into  the  diminutive  Present, 
the  slender  palm-tree,  with  its  leafy  roof,  the  vigorous,  fresh 
green  oak,  which  seemed  to  Clotilde  like  a  greeting  from 
home,  the  dark  melancholy  cypress — all  these  overshadowed 
and  guarded  the  house  ;  only  the  refreshing  sea-breeze  was 
allowed  to  pass  through  the  crowd  of  low  orange  and  myrtle 
trees  which  covered  the  slope  towards  the  east,  and  spread 
their  balmy  fragrance  over  the  whole  surrounding  country. 

To  the  north,  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  the  river  glittered 
through  the  thicker  woods,  and  on  its  banks,  in  the  still  even- 
ing hour,  the  gray  cranes  would  assemble  in  small  groups,  and 
send,  as  is  their  wont,  a  strange  cry,  like  a  call,  through  the 
air,  as  a  sign  for  their  companions.  Game  in  great  numbers, 
and  flocks  of  wild  turkeys,  filled  the  woods  a  little  farther 
off ;  and  near  the  house,  around  the  tops  of  the  lofty  cypresses, 
hovered  swarms  of  small,  gay,  bright-coloured  perroquets,  and 
about  the  balmy  flowers  of  the  bushes,  now  and  then,  a  tiny 
humming-bird,  still  more  dazzling  in  colour.  Where  the 
savannah  joined  the  plantation,  it  was  exuberant  in  rich 
grass  and  an  immeasurable  quantity  of  flowers,  which  served 
as  pasture  for  countless  flocks  of  cattle.  All  around  bore  the 
stamp  of  sensual  contentment,  cheerful  enjoyment  ;  not  a 
spark  of  the  wild  flame  of  war,  which  for  years  had  been 
raging  in  the  interior  of  the  land,  had  yet  been  borne  hither. 
Smilingly,  revelling  in  voluptuous  delight  at  its  own  beauty 
and  calm,  Nature  lay  spread  out  before  Clotilde. 

But  he  who  thinks  that  the  poor  lonely  one  found  consola- 
tion in  this  sight,  knows  little  of  the  human  heart.  The  more 
the  magic  power  of  the  scenery  around  her  penetrated  her 
soul,  the  more  cruelly  her  breast  was  lacerated  by  a  boundless 
woe.  Yes,  so  it  is  !  Nothing  heightens  more  our  grief  for  a 
loss,  than  to  have  a  feeling  for  the  beauty  of  the  earth  forced 
upon  us  ;  nothing  makes  it  more  cutting,  than  the  terrible 
contrast  which  harmonious  Nature  presents  to  our  wounded 


STILL-LIFE.  69 

senses,  our  shattered  heart.  We  see  rise  up  before  us  then, 
with  fearful  distinctness,  the  shadows  of  our  crushed  hopes,  of 
our  frustrated  claims  to  human  happiness,  the  ghosts  of  the 
days  of  our  withered  future,  in  one  long,  ghastly,  fearful 
train  ! 

He  who  would  console  an  unhappy  brother, — we  mean  a 
very  unhappy  one,  and  one  who  is  not  yet  old  enough  to  have 
done  with  the  world  at  any  rate, — he  who  would  raise  up  his 
poor,  desolate,  crushed  heart,  should  not  lead  him  out  into 
Nature,  into  the  clear  sunny  smile  of  the  awakening  year, 
should  not  show  him  the  world  in  its  beauty.  Let  not  the 
rich  earth  call  out  to  him  with  its  thousand  voices  :  "  See, 
everything  is  in  bloom  and  full  of  fragrance,  thou  alone  art 
withered  and  dead  !  See  how  glorious  is  all  around  thee,  but 
thou  canst  not  feel  its  glory,  because  thy  glory  has  departed  ! 
Everything  joins  in  the  loveliest  harmony,  thou  alone  intrud- 
est  thyself  discordantly  !" 

Bind  not  new  ties  around  the  bleeding  heart,  which  is 
already  rent  asunder  by  its  struggle.  Suffer  it  to  belong  to 
that  world  for  which  its  afflictions  have  fitted  it,  and  nearer 
to  which  they  have  drawn  it.  It  may  be  that  in  days  of  mist 
and  rain,  in  stormy  autumn  nights,  when  heaven  and  earth 
seem  to  mourn  with  it  in  pity,  it  will  obtain  a  moment  of 
melancholy  peace,  in  its  harmony  with  the  outer  world.  The 
chains  that  hold  the  body  to  earth,  while  the  soul  soars  up  to 
the  object  of  our  constant  longing,  are  not  the  ones  which 
bind  us  in  reality.  A  time  will  come  that  will  break  them, 
and  a  quick  resolve  can  even  anticipate  that.  But  we  bear 
within  us  chains  that  are  much  harder  to  loose,  in  our  purest, 
as  well  as  our  sensual  inclinations  If  the  world  were  truly 
only  one  of  trial,  full  of  thorns  and  rocks,  as  the  pious  say, 
patience  and  courage  would  bear  us  through,  as  through  a 
lengthy  cure,  which  leads  to  final  convalescence.  No,  just 
that  it  is  a  glorious  garden,  sprung  from  God,  teeming  volup- 
tuously with  the  fruits  and  flowers  of  Art,  of  Science,  of 


70  THE    EXILES. 

Love,  of  the  purest  pleasures,  which  invites  as  to  enjoy- 
ment, while  destiny  constantly  steps  in  the  pilgrim's  way  and 
darkens  it  with  the  veil  of  mourning, — this  is  the  true  mis- 
fortune of  the  longing,  thirsting,  much-disappointed  human 
heart  ! 

Thus  poor  Clotilde's  fresh  wounds  began  to  bleed  more 
violently  at  the  sight  of  the  glorious  nature  around  her;  she 
could  not  clearly  define  her  feelings,  she  hardly  knew  herself 
why  her  nerves  were  constantly  quivering  and  being  lace- 
rated by  the  one  thought,  "  I  have  lost  him  !"  True,  she 
had  learned  actually  to  love  Hubert  only  during  the  four 
short  weeks  of  their  voyage  ;  but  the  Ihonrj'nl  of  him  was 
grown  together  with  the  last  seven  years  of  her  past,  during 
which  all  those  nearest  and  dearest  to  her  had  been  taken 
away.  All  that  she  had  ever  lost  during  her  life  was  blfiidcd 
iu  her  soul  with  his  loss. 

At  other  times,  again,  she  thought  she  recognised  a  kind 
of  sympathy  in  nature.  When,  in  the  evening  twilight,  she 
crept  up  to  the  cupola,  which  overlooked  the  whole  country 
around,  and  sat  there,  wrapped  in  a  light  shawl,  in  breathless 
silence,  listening  to  the  countless  wonderful  night-sounds  of 
Nature,  many  a  plaintive  note  would  reach  her  ear.  How 
melancholy  the  croaking  of  various  kinds  of  frogs  sounded 
over  from  the  distant  swamp,  distinct  above  the  rest  the  little 
tinkle  of  the  bell-frog,  just  as  when,  in  the  country  at  home, 
the  flocks  were  going  home  to  their  rest ;  or  the  sharp  shrill  cry 
of  the  small  screech-owl  would  come  through  the  still  night ; 
or  the  painful  scream  of  a  rice-bird,  upon  whose  nest  a  hawk 
had  pounced.  Her  heart  beat  quicker  iu  sympathetic  anxietv, 
when  she  heard  that  sound.  She  liked  particularly  to  seek 
with  her  eye  the  solitary  wood-pelican,  when,  at  dusk,  he  was 
perched,  so  sadly  and  gloomily,  at  the  top  of  a  cedar,  his  head 
resting  on  his  breast,  his  strong  wings  drooping,  looking  out 
upon  the  ocean  with  his  deep,  melancholy  eyes,  and  yet  keep- 
ing anxiously  at  a  certain  distance  from  the  sea.  She  too 


STILL-LIFE.  71 

gazed  out  upon  it  incessantly,  seeking  the  land  of  the  German 
with  her  soul's  eye. 

These  dangerous  reveries  were  at  length  broken  in  upon 
by  a  visit  from  Donna  Josepha,  whose  time  of  penance  was 
over  for  this  summer.  Alonzo  joyfully  announced  it  to 
Clotilde.  He  knew  so  little  of  the  human  heart,  that  he  had 
not  a  doubt  that,  because  they  were  both  good  and  unhappy, 
they  must  needs  become  friends  and  comforting  compan- 
ions. But  Clotilde  soon  felt  that  Josepha  could  neither 
give  nor  hardly  receive  from  her  anything.  However,  this 
acquaintance  became  salutary  to  her  in  one  point.  She 
saw  in  Donna  Josepha  the  evil  of  giving  way  entirely  and 
unresistingly  to  an  immoderate  sorrow.  She  was  hardly 
thirty-eight,  but,  bowed  down  and  worn  out  by  grief,  and 
nearly  blind  from  incessant  weeping,  she  could  have  been 
taken  for  fifty.  Her  withered  features  still  bore  traces  of 
great  beauty  ;  but  she  despised  this  beauty,  indeed,  she 
hated  it,  because,  as  she  said,  it  had  tempted  her  to  sin. 
She  gave  Clotilde  a  warm  greeting,  and  expressed  her  sym- 
pathy with  deep  feeling  ;  but  it  was  plain  that  she  had  only 
come  to  convince  her  that  she  could  alone  find  peace  in  the 
bosom  of  the  church — and,  as  a  matter  of  course,  only  in  the 
Koman  Catholic  church.  Their  conversations,  which  she 
always  brought  back  to  this  point,  began  to  make  poor  Cli> 
tilde's  asylum  uncomfortable  to  her. 

At  this  period  Alonzo  at  length  received  an  answer  from 
his  business-man  in  New  York.  It  contained  sad  intel- 
ligence. The  firm  in  Hamburg,  which  had  given  Clotilde  a 
draft  and  a  letter  of  credit  for  the  amount  of  twenty  thou- 
sand thalers,  had  failed  two  months  before,  dragged  several 
other  houses  to  ruin  with  it,  and  also  brought  considerable 
loss  to  that  in  New  York,  to  which  the  letters  had  been  ad- 
dressed. The  firm  professed  not  to  be  under  obligation  to 
pay,  even  if  the  papers  should  be  produced. 

Clotilde  smiled  sadly  as  she  read  the  letter.     "  And  can 


72  THE   EXILES. 

this  still  pain  me,  when  I  have  lost  so  much  that  was  far 
nobler  ?"  she  asked  herself.  But,  nevertheless,  this  intelli- 
gence cast  her  down  again,  deeply.  She  was  quite  poor 
now.  She  who  had  grown  up  in  affluence  and  abundance, 
she  who  was  accustomed  to  distribute  with  full  hands,  the 
generous  protectress  of  everything  good  and  beautiful,  the 
benefactress  of  the  poor — she  must  now  remain  in  debt,  and 
submit  to  the  thought  of  having  lived  for  months  on  the 
kindness  of  a  stranger  and  his  menials.  "  Down,  proud 
heart  !"  she  said,  pressing  her  hand  firmly  on  her  poor  heart, 
and  with  difficulty  forcing  back  a  bitter  tear. 

This  disappointment  had  one  good  eifect,  in  rousing  her 
slumbering  energy.  Already  the  next  day  she  had  formed  a 
resolve.  After  once  more  expressing  to  Alonzo  her  grati- 
tude, and  her  regret  that,  though  she  would  always  feel  under 
obligations  to  him  for  his  kindness,  she  was  now  also  forced 
to  remain  in  his  debt  for  the  expense  she  had  caused  him, 
she  requested  him  to  obtain  for  her  a  situation  as  teacher  in 
a  school,  or  governess  in  a  private  family. 

Alonzo  would  not  hear  of  this.  He,  as  well  as  his  mother, 
urged  her  to  make  Tallahasota  her  home  ;  but  she  remained 
firm,  and  Alonzo  at  length  listened  to  her  representation  that 
a  more  active  life  would  do  her  good,  and  be  the  best  thing 
to  steel  her  heart  against  its  sorrow.  He  therefore  promised 
to  put  the  necessary  advertisement  in  the  papers  of  St.  Au- 
gustine and  the  neighbouring  states,  and  obtain  for  her  those 
in  which  she  would  be  apt  to  find  a  notice  that  suited  her. 
"  Perhaps,"  he  said,  thoughtfully,  "  I  can  find  something  bet- 
ter for  you." 

Some  weeks  passed,  during  which,  indeed,  several  oppor- 
tunities offered,  which  Clotilde  was  ready  to  improve.  But 
her  young  friend,  whom,  owing  to  the  generosity  he  had 
shown  her,  she  was  obliged  to  consult,  rejected  everything. 

One  day  he  came  to  her  with  a  more  cheerful  mien.  "  I 
have,"  he  said,  "  a  proposal  to  make  to  you,  which  I  hope 


SlILL'LIFE.  73 

will  be  acceptable.  You  have  heard  me  speak  of  my  uncle, 
a  distinguished  lawyer  in  Charleston.  He  offers  you  his  house 
as  a  home.  He  has  two  daughters,  of  about  your  own  age, 
Miss  Osten,  who  wish  to  perfect  themselves  in  music.  You, 
with  your  fine  talent,  and  thorough  knowledge  of  the  art, 
can  be  very  useful  to  both.  Besides  this,  the  eldest,  Yir- 
ginia,  in  her  enthusiastic  way,  has  lately  been  seized  with  a 
passion  for  your  language,  and  wishes  to  continue  her  studies 
in  it.  My  uncle  is  ready  to  pay  his  daughters'  instructress 
an  annual  salary  of  five  hundred  dollars.  You  will  find  frieuds 
in  my  cousins,  dear  Miss  Osten,  for  they  are  both  lovely 
girls.  If  you  are  willing,  I  will  take^you  to  Charleston  my- 
self." 

Clotilde  did  not  .hesitate,  and  thanked  him  warmly.  The 
time  had  come  when  Donna  Josepha  would  at  any  rate  re- 
turn to  St.  Augustine,  and  thus  she  would  not  deprive  her  of 
her  son,  by  being  the  occasion  of  his  journey.  She  could  see 
plainly  that  he  readily  seized  the  opportunity  of  going  to 
Charleston  for  the  winter,  and  the  colour  that  tinged  his 
cheeks  when  he  mentioned  Yirginia's  name,  led  her  to  sus- 
pect that  she  was  his  intended  wife. 

The  only  thing  of  worth  that  Clotilde  had  saved  from  the 
wreck,  was  a  small,  but  valuable  diamond  ring,  a  present 
from  her  mother,  the  only  one  that  she  wore  on  the  voyage, 
and  which,  as  it  was  rather  tight,  she  did  not  take  off  during 
the  night.  When  Mrs.  Castleton  left  Tallahasota,  Clotilde 
commissioned  her  maid — a  sensible,  trustworthy  mulatto  wo- 
man— to  sell  this  ring  to  a  jeweller,  and  named  for  its  price 
thirty  dollars,  which  was  about  one-third  of  its  value.  It 
pained  her  to  part  from  this  last  remembrance  of  her  Past, 
but  to  leave  Tallahasota  without  at  least  showing  herself 
grateful  to  the  servants,  would  have  been  still  more  painful. 
The  rest  of  her  debts  she  hoped  to  be  able  to  pay  in  the 
course  of  the  year,  from  her  salary.  A  week  after,  the 
maid  sent  her,  to  her  great  surprise,  a  hundred  dollars,  as  the 
4 


74  THE   EXILES. 

price  of  the  ring.  She  soon  divined  that  Donna  Josepha's 
generosity  had  been  at  work  here,  and  as  she  knew  that  the 
latter  never  wore  any  jewelry,  she  was  obliged,  not  without 
a  blush,  not  without  a  deep  sigh,  to  take  it  as  a  present. 
For,  until  now,  the  favour  of  circumstances  had  spared  her 
any  humiliation  ! 

She  could  now  distribute  freely,  and  still  retain  enough  to 
send  to  St.  Augustine  for  a  plain  bonnet  and  shawl,  and 
some  mourning  stuffs  for  the  journey,  to  supply  herself  with 
warm  clothes  for  the  approaching  cold  season,  and  fill  up 
several  other  gaps  in  her  scanty  wardrobe.  All  was  ar- 
ranged with  the  greatest  economy  ;  she  cut  out  the  clothes 
herself,  and  made  them  with  the  assistance  of  the  servant- 
girls.  Thus  she  endeavoured  to  deaden  her  grief  by  restless 
activity,  and  now  that  she  had  once  taken  a  resolution,  to 
meet  her  new  destiny  with  firmness  and  courage.  Mean- 
while, the  middle  of  October  drew  near,  the  period  when 
the  Castleton  family,  who  generally  spent  the  summer  in  one 
of  the  Northern  states,  or  at  some  sea-bathing  place,  settled 
down  again  at  their  house  in  Charleston.  Alonzo  and  Clo- 
tilde  therefore  fixed  the  day  of  their  departure,  and  made 
their  travelling-plan.  As  far  as  St.  Augustine,  Alonzo's 
horses  were  to  carry  them  ;  from  there,  a  packet  went  twice 
a  week  to  Savannah  and  Charleston. 

Already  some  time  before,  shortly  after  she  had  resolved 
upon  a  new  course  of  life,  Clotilde  had  forced  herself  to  write 
to  the  Baron.  She  had  still  a  small  estate,  which,  in  the 
hurry  of  her  departure,  had  not  been  sold,  and  some  trifling 
outlying  capital  which  had  needed  earlier  notice.  With  a 
few  constrained  words,  she  informed  her  friend  of  her  mis- 
fortune, the  outlines  of  which,  she  remarked,  he  had  probably 
seen  in  the  papers.  She  begged  him  to  send  her  the  money 
which  still  was  hers — at  the  most,  a  few  hundred  dollars — to 
Charleston,  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Richard  Castleton,  and  pro- 
mised to  write  again  from  there.  "Do  ot  chide  me,  my 


STILL-LIFE.  75 

dear  friend,"  she  wrote,  "  for  this  cold  tone,  in  which  you  will 
not  recognise  your  Clotilde.  I  am  no  longer  the  same.  Four 
months  have  hardly  passed  since  I  saw  the  waves  meet  over 
Hubert's  beloved  head,  when,  on  my  account,  to  save  my  pro- 
perty, he  missed  the  moment  of  escape  ;  and  I  still  live  !  I 
still  eat,  drink,  and  sleep — yes,  I  read,  work,  write  again  ! 
Do  you  recognise  in  this  harsh,  dull  nature  your  friend  Clo- 
tilde, whose  feelings  were  always  sensitive  like  those  of  the 
mimosa  ?  No,  I  am  no  more  the  same  !  No  more  happiness 
can  proceed  from  me  ;  I  am  no  more  susceptible  to  any. 
Only  in  one  thing  I  am  unchanged.  I  know  that  I  must 
bear  the  burden  which  the  Almighty  has  placed  upon  my 
feeble  shoulders  ;  I  know,  too,  that  we  women  are  wrong  in 
believing  love  to  be  our  aim  in  life — my  hard  fate  has  taught 
me  that  it  is  only  duty!" 

The  travellers  spent  a  few  days  in  St.  Augustine.  Clotilde 
here  first  had  an  opportunity  of  admiring  the  strength  of  the 
Anglo-American  element,  which  in  the  course  of  hardly 
twenty  years  had  already  given  this  old  Spanish  citadel  a  so 
decidedly  national  American  character.  For  two  centuries 
and  a  half,  the  little  city,  with  its  convents  and  churches,  had 
lain  there,  as  it  were,  in  indolent  ease  in  its  bed  of  orange- 
trees,  and  suffered  itself  to  be  fanned,  across  the  low  bul- 
wark formed  by  the  flat  Anastasia  Island,  by  cool,  refreshing 
winds,  without  caring  much  for  what  price  it  might  dispose 
of  its  golden  fruit  in  the  Northern  market,  or  whether  the 
East  wind  that  refreshed  it  so,  favourably  swelled  the  sails 
of  the  vessel  which  bore  its  rich  cargo  to  the  North  ;  and 
now,  in  these  twenty  years,  how  business-like  and  merchant- 
like  had  it  learned  to  act,  and  still,  with  its  motley  popula- 
t  on  of  one-half  Spaniards  and  French,  mulattoes  and  mongrels, 
Greeks  and  Minorcans,  kept  at  bay  the  prosa'c,  dry,  withering 
influence  of  the  other  half,  the  restless,  work.ng,  gaining, 
speculating  Yankees  ! 

Clotilde  looked  upon  the  gay  scene  with  a  passing  interest. 


76  TIJE   EXILES. 

Leaning  on  the  arm  of  Alonzo,  who  wished  to  show  her  the 
wealth  of  the  land,  she  passed  through  the  market-place, 
whore  splendid  fruits  and  flowers  lay  heaped  up.  They 
stopped  beside  a  wagon  which  was  particularly  distinguished 
by  the  balmy  fragrance  of  its  contents  :  a  wealth  of  fair  and 
gorgeous  flowers,  such  as  Clotilde  had  never  beheld  before. 
They  were  about  to  be  conveyed  to  the  church  of  St.  Lucia, 
to  decorate  it  for  an  approaching  holiday.  The  driver  of  the 
wagon  looked  at  Alonzo  and  saluted  him  respectfully,  but 
then,  his  eye  falling  upon  Clotilde,  he  changed  colour,  and 
quickly  turned  away  his  head.  Clotilde,  too,  had  recognised 
him.  It  was  the  same  terrible  man  who  had  struck  Hubert 
on  the  head  with  his  oar — it  was  Hubert's  murderer  ! 

He  had  remained  in  St.  Augustine,  and  taken  service  with 
a  gardener.  He  did  not  now  bear  the  fiendish,  wild  expres- 
sion of  that  time.  Despair  and  fear  had  then  made  a  barba- 
rian of  him.  The  deepest  pain  was  depicted  in  his  face  when 
he  beheld  that  pale,  touching  figure,  clad  in  deep  mourning. 

A  deathly  pallour  overspread  Clotilde's,  features ;  she  trem- 
bled violently.  "I  am  not  yet  fit  for  the  world,"  she  said  to 
herself  bitterly,  and  Alonzo  could  not  again  persuade  her  to 
go  out  with  him.  Only  to  church  she  went  once  with  Josepha. 
"  May  not  peace  come  to  me  in  that  holy  spot  ?"  she  asked 
herself.  "  It  is  not  my  church,  but  what  matter  ?  It  is  a 
place  from  which  thousands  call  upon  the  Lord  I" 

A  sensation  of  holy  calm  came  over  her  soul  for  a  moment 
when  she  entered  the  imposing  ancient  gothic  cathedral.  She 
followed  Josepha,  and  when  the  latter  prostrated  herself 
before  her  patron-saint,  (a  figure,  large  as  life,  which  stood  in 
a  recess,)  to  whom  she  owed  her  name,  she  knelt  beside  her. 
The  image  was  covered  with  costly  jewelry  ;  among  the  rest, 
Clotilde  saw  her  diamond  ring  upon  the  waxen  finger  of  the 
saint.  There  was  a  sharp  pain  at  her  heart ;  she  arose,  and 
never  went  to  the  church  again. 


A   NEW    LIFE.  77 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A     NEW     LIFE. 

THE  carriage  which  had  conveyed  our  travellers  from  the 
dock  into  the  city  of  Charleston,  at  length  stopped  before 
a  brick  house,  which,  high  and  narrow,  elegant  in  its  appear- 
ance, with  bright  window-panes,  green  blinds  and  marble 
steps,  was  in  no  way  distinguished  from  the  long  row  of 
houses  on  either  side.  Clotilde  would  have  preferred  it  if 
the  Castletous  had  lived  in  one  of  the  pleasant  buildings 
resembling  country-houses,  standing  separately  at  the  side  of 
some  streets  through  which  they  had  passed,  but  which,  as 
she  heard,  were  not  so  fashionable  as  these  houses  built  in 
the  New  York  style.  Alonzo  sprang  from  the  carriage,  but 
before  he  could  ring  the  bell,  the  door  opened,  and  a  young 
girl  appeared,  a  small  figure,  plainly  dressed  in  black,  with 
hat  and  shawl  on.  It  was  evident  that  she  was  about  to  go 
out,  and  was  not  there  to  meet  them.  But  she  immediately 
cried  :  "  Welcome,  cousin  Alonzo  !  I  hope  you  have  not 
left  your  travelling-companion  behind  you  1" 

When  Clotilde,  upon  this,  had  also  alighted,  she  met  her 
with  a  warm,  cordial  greeting,  and  a  pair  of  good,  honest 
blue  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  stranger,  not  with  curiosity,  but 
with  a  look  inviting  confidence.  The  young  lady  rang  for 
the  servants,  and  while  Alonzo  looked  to  the  baggage  and 
was  paying  off  the  driver,  she  led  Clotilde  up  the  marble 
steps,  through  the  narrow  hall  laid  with  gaily-painted  oilcloth, 


78  THE  EXILES. 

into  one  of  the  splendid  parlours.  The  costly  furniture,  heavy 
damask  curtains,  a  soft  thick  Turkey  carpet,  unrivalled  in 
brightness  of  colours,  the  walls  hung  with  oil-paintings  in 
massive  frames,  and  an  exquisitely  sculptured  marble  mantel- 
piece, all  testified  to  the  wealth  of  their  owner. 

Alonzo  soon  followed  them.  Although  he  could  suppose 
that  his  cousin  must  know  who  the  stranger  was,  he  would 
have  considered  it  a  want  of  politeness  towards  the  latter  if 
he  had  not  formally  introduced  her.  "  Cousin  Sarah,"  he 
said,  "  allow  me  to  introduce  Miss  Osten  to  you.  Miss  Osten, 
Miss  Sarah  Castleton." 

Both  bowed.  "  I  was  just  going  to  prayer-meeting."  said 
Sarah,  "  but  I  shall  stay  at  home  now,  for  Virginia  has  gone 
to  the  concert  with  Mr.  Thorn,  and  will  hardly  be  home  before 
ten  o'clock.  We  are  very  happy  now,  cousin,"  she  continued, 
turning  to  Alonzo.  "  We  have  more  means  of  grace  than 
ever  before.  Dr.  Church,  from  Boston,  leads  the  meeting 
to-night.  You  have  no  idea  how  eloquent  his  prayers  are  ! 
The  spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  him.  I  hope  you  will  hear 
him,  cousin.  He  is  a  good  man." 

"  Is  that  the  same  Church,  Sarah,  who  was  horsewhipped 
in  Portland,  on  account  of  that  temperance  affair  ?" 

"  The  same.  It  was  a  shameful  affair.  I  think  the  Unita- 
rians disapproved  of  this  wicked  act  as  much  as  the  Christians, 
cousin  Alonzo." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  said  Alonzo.  "  But  I  hope  he  won't  meddle 
with  things  here  that  don't  concern  him." 

"  The  temperance  cause  concerns  every  Christian,  cousin  !" 

"  The  temperance  folks  ought  not  to  spoil  their  good  cause 
by  sticking  so  close  to  the  Abolitionists.  Their  intercourse 
with  those  scoundrels  injures  them  vastly  with  us." 

"  With  us,  too,"  was  Sarah's  reply  ;  "and  yet  no  one  ought 
to  reject  the  water  of  life  because  the  same  cup  in  which  it  is 
offered  him,  might  be  filled  with  a  poisonous  draught.  But,"  she 
continued,  turning  to  Clotilde,  "  perhaps  you  would  prefer  to 


» 
A  NEW  LIFE.  79 

go  to  your  room,  until  tea  can  be  got  ready  again.  It  was 
just  over  when  you  came." 

Clotilde  acquiesced,  and  Sarah,  carrying  a  silver-plated 
lamp  and  her  travelling-basket,  led  the  way  up  two  high 
flights  of  stairs,  covered  with  rich  carpets.  "  Don't  lose  your 
breath,"  she  said,  pleasantly  ;  "  papa  and  sister  Virginia  have 
the  rooms  in  the  second  story."  They  now  entered  a  large 
handsome  apartment,  where  stood  an  immense  bed  with  snow- 
white  covers  and  pillows,  but  without  curtains  ;  a  small  room 
adjoining,  containing  a  wash-stand  and  looking-glass,  seemed 
meant  for  a  dressing-room.  In  the  middle  of  the  plain  white 
marble  mantelpiece  lay  an  enormous  bible,  bound  in  velvet  and 
gold,  and  concentrating  in  its  outer  garment,  as  it  were,  all  the 
splendour  which  otherwise  was  carefully  avoided  in  the  whole 
room  ;  on  both  sides  of  this  stood,  in  tasteful  and  regular 
groups,  some  smaller  books,  mostly  memoirs  of  pious  mission- 
aries, Doddridge's  "  Rise  and  Progress,"  Hannah  More's 
"  Practical  Piety,"  Melville's  "  Bible  Thoughts,"  and  several 
other  books  of  the  kind.  On  the  toilet-table  lay  another  bible, 
smaller  in  size  and  plainer  in  dress.  This  was  obviously  meant 
for  reading,  the  larger  one  only  to  reverence  ;  Watts'  Hymns 
lay  beside  it. 

"  I  hope,  my  dear  Miss  Osten,"  said  Sarah,  hanging  her 
bonnet  and  shawl  in  the  closet,  for  she  was  very  orderly,  "  I 
hope  you  do  not  object  to  sharing  my  bed  with  me.  Our 
house  in  the  country  is  very  large  ;  there  we  could  give  you 
two  or  three  rooms  to  yourself,  but  in  the  city  we  are  limited 
in  space.  But  the  dressing-room  will  give  us  ample  opportu- 
nity for  our  private  devotions.  I  need  not  disturb  you,  if 
you  perhaps  like  to  perform  yours  alone.  I  know  that 
some  Christians  prefer  this.  We  can  easily  come  to  an  agree- 
ment. How  many  hours  daily  do  you  spend  in  prayer,  Miss 
Osten  ?" 

Clotilde  was  exceedingly  embarrassed,  and  not  a  little  sur- 
prised, at  being  thus  catechized  by  this  sweet  creature  in  their 


80  THE   EXILES.      „  a 

first  conversation.  She  replied,  with  cast-down  eyes,  that  she 
did  not  follow  any  rule  in  this. 

"  Yery  well,"  rejoined  Sarah,  looking  at  her  with  her  mild 
eyes,  "  excuse  my  importunity,  dear  Miss  Osten  !  I  would 
not  at  once  have  asked  you  such  close  questions,  had  I  con- 
sidered you  a  stranger.  But  I  would  wish  you  to  find  a  home 
here,  to  look  upon  this  humble  chamber  as  the  haven  to  which 
the  Lord  has  brought  you,  to  learn  to  praise  His  almighty 
name  even  for  the  storms  by  which  he  has  shattered  the  slight 
vessel  of  your  earthly  happiness.  If  I,  in  my  weakness,  can 
aid  you  hi  this,  I  shall  give  thanks  to  my  Saviour  for  deigning 
to  make  use  of  me  as  His  humble  instrument."  With  this  she 
kissed  her,  and  left  the  room. 

Clotilde  remained  behind,  overwhelmed  with  the  most 
varied  impressions.  She  was  most  painfully  surprised  that  in 
this  house  of  splendour  and  fashion,  she  was  not  even  to  have  a 
small  chamber  for  herself ;  it  was  particularly  repulsive  to  her 
German  feelings  to  share  her  bed  even  with  this  lovely  girl. 
But,  "  down,  proud  heart  !"  she  again  said  to  herself,  and  this 
time  not  without  some  bitterness;  "forget  not  that  in  this 
house  of  the  wealthy,  you  are  only  a  paid  servant.  And  how 
good  and  pious  this  girl  is  !  Her  way  is  different  from  mine, 
but  why  should  it  not  be  an  equally  sure  one  ?  I  fear,  how- 
ever, she  thinks  it  the  only  sure  one.  And  how  if  it  were  so  ? 
Has  it  really  led  her  to  that  which  she  requires  of  me  ?  Has 
she  too  suffered  ?  Has  she  drained  the  cup  and  overcome  its 
effects? — How  calm,  how  soothing  everything  around  me 
looks  1  There  is  an  atmosphere  of  peace  about  me  in  this 
holy  spot.  Perhaps  I  shall  obtain  it  here,  that  heavenly  peace 
for  which  my  heart  is  yearning  in  vain  ! — How  did  she  say  ? 
Praise  God  for  my  affliction,  my  terrible  affliction  ?  Oh  !  my 
heavenly  Father  !  Dost  Thou  indeed  require  of  us  this  com- 
plete denial  of  the  nature  Thou  hast  given  us  ?  Am  I  a 
sinner,  if  I  praise  Thee  only  notwithstanding  my  affliction  ?  Is 
it  not  enough  that  I  bow  beneath  Thy  chastening  hand — must 


A    NEW   LIFE.  81 

I  kiss  the  rod  with  which  Thou  dost  punish  me,  if  I  would 
please  Thee  ?" 

She  calmed  herself  with  difficulty  when  the  servant  came 
to  call  her  to  tea.  Sarah,  who  presided  at  the  tea-table,  re- 
ceived her  kindly.  Her  father  also  was  present  this  time,  a 
man  of  fine  presence,  from  whose  fiery  black  eye  his  Spanish 
blood  shone  out,  while  his  massive  build  and  formal  deport- 
ment showed  his  English  descent,  and  his  dark,  sallow  com- 
plexion and  cavalier  air  characterized  the  South  Carolinian 
planter. 

He  greeted  Clotilde  condescendingly,  and  asked  her,  with 
a  peculiarly  cold,  stiff,  truly  national  politeness,  several  dry, 
customary  questions.  After  inquiring  about  her  health,  and 
asking  "  how  she  liked  America,"  he  wished  to  know  of  what 
part  of  Germany  she  was  a  native,  and,  after  hearing  her  an- 
swer, informed  her  that  the  best  German  was  spoken  in  that 
region.  A  friend  of  his,  who  was  descended  from  one  of  the 
first  families  in  the  state,  and  had  travelled  in  Germany,  had 
assured  him  of  this.  His  daughter  Virginia  was  very  enthu- 
siastic for  German  literature.  It  was  only  a  pity  that  the 
latter  was  so  misty,  and  that  infidelity  was  so  predominant  in 
it.  Miss  Osten  must  not  think,  however,  that  he  was  at  all 
prejudiced  against  the  German  nation;  on  the  contrary,  he 
considered  it  a  very  estimable  one  !  He  had  never  seen  more 
industrious  people.  And  music  was  so  common  among  them. 
He  was  sure  Miss  Osten  was  also  very  musical.  His  sister- 
in-law  in  New  York  had  told  him,  too,  that  most  people  there 
preferred  German  servants ;  for  the  Americans  were  too  proud 
to  live  out ;  they  were  difficult  to  obtain,  and  had  within  them 
a  certain  consciousness  that  they  were  made  for  something 
better. 

Mr.  Castleton  had  not  made  this  long  speech  in  one 
breath,  but  frequently  interrupted  it  by  appeals  to  Miss 
Osten's  opinion,  and  offers  of  toast  and  cake.  Her  brief  re- 
plies to  the  former  were  by  no  means  calculated  to  disturb 
4* 


82  THE   EXILES. 

him  in  his  national  self-complacency.  "  I  hope  you  will  like 
it  with  us,  Miss  Osten,"  he  said,  at  length,  drew  one  of  the 
lamps  towards  him,  and  began  to  read  the  papers. 

Alonzo,  who,  while  Clotilde  was  up  stairs,  had  requested 
his  uncle  not  to  hurt  her  easily  moved  feelings  by  questions 
about  the  shipwreck  and  her  loss,  had  sat  as  if  on  coals  dur- 
ing this  conversation.  At  length  he  broke  the  painful  pause 
which  followed  it,  by  the  desperate  question  : 

"  Cousin  Sarah,  have  you  not  lately  had  a  four-days'-meet- 
ing  here  ?" 

"  Yes,  cousin,  and,  the  Lord  be  praised,  one  blessed  with 
abundant  fruits.  Two  hundred  and  thirty-seven  souls  have 
been  hopefully  converted,  and  have  joined  the  flock  of  the 
Lord.  On  twenty-three  others,  who  gave  the  best  hope,  and 
sat  daily  on  the  anxious  seat,  struggling  between  God  and 
the  world,  the  light  of  grace  has  not  yet  shone.  They  are 
still  in  bonds,  and  we  cannot  strictly  include  them,  when  we 
count  up  the  result  of  this  year's  revival,  with  hearts  grateful 
for  the  blessing  of  God." 

"  Has  not  Aaron  Fisher  become  a  Christian  ?"  inquired 
Alonzo  ;  "  I  think  I  heard  it  spoken  of  on  my  way  here, 
that  the  rich  old  miser  was  about  being  converted,  too.  That 
would  be  lucky  for  your  church,  Sarah,  which  is  so  in  want 
of  money." 

"  The  Lord's  Word,"  replied  Sarah,  simply,  "  is  sent  to 
the  rich  as  well  as  the  poor.  Blessed  is  he  who  listens  to  the 
call  before  it  is  too  late.  Mr.  Fisher  is  among  the  three  and 
twenty.  We  do  not  give  them  up  yet.  A  servant  of  the 
Lord  from  Connecticut,  a  zealous  labourer  in  His  vineyard,  is 
still  tarrying  with  us,  and  has  made  them  the  special  object 
of  his  efforts,  these  lukewarm  hearts,  which  say  like  Felix, 
"  When  I  have  a  convenient  time,  I  will  call  for  thee,"  and 
like  Agrippa,  "  Almost  thou  persuaclest  me  to  be  a  Christian." 
Every  day  he  visits  Mr.  Fisher  and  many  others,  young  and 
old;  he  prays  with  them,  and  wrestles  for  them  at  home  in 


A   NEW   LIFE.  83 

his  quiet  closet  with  the  spirit  of  the  Lord.  May  his  labours 
be  blessed  !" 

"  Your  report  of  this,"  said  Alonzo,  "  would  give  your 
aunt,  Mrs.  Gardiner,  great  pleasure,  cousin  Sarah  !" 

"  She  does  not  need  a  report  from  me,"  replied  Sarah,  with 
sparkling  eyes.  "  She  is  near  us.  She  came  from  Massachu- 
setts to  Charleston  expressly  to  enjoy  the  revival." 

Mr.  Castleton  looked  up  from  his  paper.  "  Was  that  what 
she  came  for  ?"  he  asked,  "  I  thought  her  object  was  to  dis- 
pose of  her  slaves  more  advantageously.  You  know,  Alonzo, 
she  always  used  to  complain  that  she  made  so  little  on  them, 
and  she  hoped  to  hire  them  out  at  a  higher  price  than  her 
business-man,  if  she  could  not  sell  them." 

"  That  business,  papa,  is  only  secondary.  She  has  gone 
to  the  interior  now,  where  the  New-England  clergymen  hope 
to  bring  about  a  four-days'-meeting.  For  it  would  be  entirely 
contrary  to  the  gospel  to  offer  the  bread  of  life  merely  to  the 
rich  inhabitants  of  the  city,  while  the  others  are  perhaps 
thirsting  for  the  means  of  grace,  which  we  here  have  the  full 
enjoyment  of." 

"  Are  your  own  ministers  so  wanting  in  zeal,  Sarah,"  said 
Alonzo,  smiling,  "that  you  need  the  drawling  Yankees  to 
work  upon  your  sinners  ? — Excuse  me,  dear  cousin,  I  forgot 
that  you  are  a  little  Yankee  girl  yourself." 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  returning  the  smile,  "  and  I  look 
upon  this  mixture  in  myself  as  a  particular  blessing.  For 
however  good  the  labourers  may  be  that  we  have  here,  they 
do  not  possess  the  energy,  the  impressive  resoluteness,  the 
inspired  disregard  of  all  so-called  delicacy  and  other  worldly 
forms,  that  distinguish  our  New-England  ministers.  But  one 
reason  of  their  being  so  peculiarly  victorious,  is  that  they 
have  the  aid  of  so  many  of  their  church-members.  What  an 
influence,  for  instance,  does  my  aunt  Gardiner  exert  !  She 
and  Mrs.  Holey,  who  is  also  from  New  England,  are  the 
lights  of  the  church,  although,  as  women,  they  can  be  but 


84 

weak  vessels  of  it.  It  is  really  edifying  to  have  examples 
like  them  on  the  road  to  holiness." 

"  Pray,  cousin  Sarah,"  cried  Alonzo  laughing,  "  do  not 
take  Mrs.  Holey  for  an  example  in  your  gait.  She  walks 
like  an  elephant." 

"  Nor  aunt  Gardiner  in  her  loquacity,"  added  Richard 
Castleton,  "  for  during  the  few  days  she  spent  here,  she  nearly 
preached  me  out  of  the  house." 

All  these  and  similar  railleries  were  powerless  against 
Sarah's  cheerful  equanimity.  "  How  long,"  she  said  to  Clo- 
tilde,  "have  I  wished  to  learn  German!  You  have  such 
beautiful  hymns  in  your  language.  And  what  good,  pious 
men  your  nation  can  boast  of,  who  shine  out  in  twofold 
glory  from  the  crowd  of  infidels  around  them.  I  have  once 
read  some  translated  extracts  from  a  book  by  an  excellent 
man  named  Young  Stilling.  This  is  a  book  which  I  should 
much  like  to  read  entirely.  How  long  do  you  think  it  will 
be,  Miss  Osten,  before  I  can  understand  it  ?" 

"  That  depends  upon  how  much  time  you  devote  to  the  study 
of  the  language,  and  what  are  your  capacities  for  learning  it." 

"  My  capacities  are  indeed  not  very  great,  and  my  time 
is  very  limited,  too.  But  do  you  think  I  will  understand  it 
when  I  have  taken  lessons  for  a  quarter,  three  times  a  week, 
and  besides  this  half  an  hour  every  day  for  writing  exercises  ?" 

"  If  you  have  such  a  predilection  for  that  book,  we  might 
use  it  from  the  beginning  to  read  in,  and  connect  the  gram- 
matical exercises  with  it." 

"  I  had  rather  begin  with  the  Bible,"  said  Sarah,  "  Lu- 
ther's translation  is  said  to  be  so  beautiful." 

"  It  is  so,  but  the  language  is  obsolete,  and  just  because 
the  ideas  would  occupy  you  so  much,  it  would  hardly  be  fit 
to  teach  you  forms  of  expression." 

"  But  the  hymns  ?  How  much  time  will  I  want  to  be 
able  to  read  German  hymns  ?  Six  weeks  ?  Eight  weeks  ?" 

Clotilde  smiled.     "  I  cannot  calculate  the  time  with  such 


A   NEW    LIFE.  85 

mathematical  precision.      As  soon   as   you  understand  the  , 
language  itself,  you  will  be  able  to  read  everything,  in  it. 
Our  sacred  poetry,  however,  is  very  simple,  but  this  lies  more 
in  the  thoughts  than  in  the  language." 

While  the  two  girls  had  been  conversing  together,  Alonzo 
had  manifested  his  impatience  in  various  ways,  and  listened 
to  every  approaching  carriage.  Mr.  Castleton,  too,  had 
looked  at  his  watch  several  times,  and  remarks  such  as, 
"  How  long  that  concert  lasts!"  or  "  Virginia  stays  out  late," 
showed  that  he  too  was  impatient. 

At  this  moment  a  carriage  stopped  before  the  house,  and 
a  loud  ringing  of  the  bell,  and  lively  voices  in  the  hall,  an- 
nounced Virginia's  return.  The  door  flew  open,  and  a  tall, 
graceful  girl,  whose  beauty,  at  the  first  glance,  struck  Clotilde 
as  extraordinary,  entered  the  room,  followed  by  two  gentle- 
men. Over  a  rich  silk  dress,  she  wore  a  short  black  velvet 
cloak,  which  had,  after  the  newest  fashion,  a  hood  of  piuk  satin 
attached  to  it.  This,  which  served  at  the  same  time  as  an 
ornament  for  the  cloak  and  a  covering  for  the  head,  Virginia 
had  thrown  back  on  entering  the  hause,  thus  displaying  the 
loveliest  head  that  ever  sat  upon  a  pair  of  gracefully  sloping 
shoulders  and  a  delicate,  slender  throat.  A  mass  of  glossy 
chestnut  curls  hung  on  both  sides  of  her  perfectly  regular 
face,  while  a  heavy  braid  was  fastened,  by  a  golden  arrow,  in 
a  knot  at  the  back  of  her  finely-shaped  head.  A  high,  daz- 
zlingly-white  forehead,  a  straight,  delicate  nose,  a  mouth 
around  which  Cupids  seemed  to  be  playing,  and  a  pair  of 
large,  brown  eyes,  full  of  mind  and  soul — all  these  were  in 
perfect  harmony  with  the  lovely  form  of  her  face,  and  can  be 
described  in  words  ;  but  the  marvellous  delicacy  and  pecu- 
liar flexibility  which  characterized  the  whole  of  her  features,  no 
pen  can  depict.  The  want  of  that  which  was  necessary  to  make 
her  a  perfect  beauty,  namely,  a  fresh,  blooming  complexion, 
and  fulness  of  figure,  as  well  as  a  certain  roundness  of  form 
and  feature,  was  partly  concealed  by  the  excitement  of  the 


86  THE   EXILES. 

evening,  partly  by  the  cloak,  and,  when  this  was  thrown  off, 
by  her  dress,  which  was  extremely  rich  and  fashionable. 

Her  whole  manner  was  in  the  highest  degree  dashing. 
This  is  a  word  the  full  meaning  of  which  is  only  appreciated 
by  those  nations  who  speak  the  English  language.  It  is  only 
in  society  where,  as  in  North  America,  beauty  a,nd  fashion,  or, 
as  in  England,  rank  and  fashion,  have  an  all-imposing  power, 
that  this  adjective  can  maintain  its  full  value  ;  it  is  only 
there  that  a  "  belle,"  who  is  often  not  in  the  least  beautiful, 
only  fashionable,  can  feel  herself  perfectly  secure,  perfectly 
certain  of  her  triumphs. 

It  could  be  seen  that  Virginia  was  accustomed  to  con- 
quests. She  entered  the  room  in  lively  conversation  with 
her  admirers — one  of  whom,  who  might  for  this  evening  con- 
sider himself  the  favoured  one,  was  carrying  her  fan  and 
embroidered  handkerchief — and  called  out  to  her  father, 
without  noticing  the  guests  : 

"  Papa,  Castelli  sang  divinely  1  And  only  think,  that 
flatterer,  Mr.  Seaton,  declares  that  my  voice  is  a  great  deal 
finer  than  hers,  and  really  thinks  me  silly  enough  to  believe 
it !  Good  heavens,  cousin  Alonzo !"  she  suddenly  cried,  as 
she  saw  him  approaching  her.  "  And  this  young  lady?"  she 
continued,  her  eye  falling  upon  Clotilde. 

Sarah  upon  this  introduced  to  each  other  the  two  young 
girls,  both  so  lovely,  and  yet  so  totally  different.  Yirginia 
gave  Clotilde  a  deep  look,  full  of  soul,  which  at  once  won  her 
heart. 

"  I  have  so  longed  to  see  you,  dearest  Miss  Osten  !  And 
I  am  so  sorry  that  I  was  away  from  home  when  you  arrived!" 
She  asked  a  few  more  questions  about  her  health,  etc.,  unim- 
portant in  themselves,  but  spoken  with  the  most  charming 
grace  of  look  and  manner  !  But  she  had  no  mind  to  let  her 
admirers  off  so  soon,  especially  as  one  of  them,  who  seemed 
to  feel  rather  neglected  that  evening,  was  looking  at  the  fair 
stranger  with  undisguised  satisfaction.  She  therefore  pressed 


A   NEW   LIFE.  87 

Clotilde's  hand,  which  she  had  retained  in  hers,  once  more, 
and,  dropping  it,  turned  to  the  gentleman. 

"  Mr.  Thorn,"  she  said,  with  a  most  fascinating  roguish- 
ness,  "  who  was  that  lady  who  made  so  many  fine  speeches 
to  you  to-night  when  we  were  coming  out  ?"  And  without 
waiting  for  an  answer,  she  continued,  turning  to  the  other 
gentleman  :  "I  am  sure,  Mr.  Seaton,  Mr.  Thorn  must  have 
made  a  conquest  of  this  lady.  You  should  have  heard  the 
reproaches  with  which  she  overwhelmed  him  !  '  That  he  did 
not  come  to  see  her  any  more,  that  he  had  given  her  up  !'  It 
was  quite  touching  to  listen  to.  And  was  not  something  said 
about  letters,  too  ?  Were  they  .love-letters  ?" 

"  No,  indeed,  Miss  Castleton  ;  they  were  not  half  so  in- 
teresting. Letters  from  my  sister." 

"  Aha  !     Do  those  go  through  you  ?" 

"  You  need  not  look  so  mischievous,"  said  Thorn,  laugh- 
ing ;  "  the  lady  is  married." 

"  A  charming  widow  ?" 

"  Charming  ?  You  saw  her  in  the  mirror  of  your  own  bright 
eyes,  Miss  Yirginia  !  It  was  Mrs.  Chambers,  an  old  friend 
of  mine  from  Savannah,  whom  I  have  neglected  shamefully." 

"  Hush,  hush  !  She  did  not  look  as  if  she  would  like 
to  be  called  old  in  any  sense.  Cousin  Alonzo  !  You  are 
tired  with  the  journey.  You  are  dreaming  already  1  Do 
you  intend  to  honour  us  with  a  long  visit  this  time  ?  Shall 
we  ride  together  again  ?" 

"I  am  always  at  your  service,  cousin,"  answered  he, 
whose  eyes,  far  from  being  tired,  had  hung  upon  her  unceas- 
ingly during  the  last  conversation.  But  she  quickly  turned 
to  the  third  of  her  admirers. 

"  Mr.  Seaton,  don't  forget  to  bring  back  that  French 
novel  that  I  lent  you,  to-morrow.  Isn't  it  delicious.  How 
charmingly  this  George  Sand  pictures  love.  But  do  you 
think  Raymond  a  natural  character  ?  He  is  a  monster  1 
And  Ralph  !  Was  there  ever  a  more  tiresome  person  ?  No 


88  THE   EXILES. 

wonder  Indiana  doesn't  learn  to  love  him  till  the  end  of  the 
book.  How  well  it  is,  Alonzo,  that  all  cousins  are  not  so 
tiresome!" 

At  length  Sarah,  who  had  taken  no  active  part  in  the 
conversation,  asked  Clotilde  if  she  were  not  tired  with  the 
journey  and  did  not  need  rest.  This  was  the  signal  for  a 
general  breaking-up  of  the  party.  "  I  hope  soon  to  become 
better  acquainted  with  you,"  said  Virginia  to  Clotilde  with 
a  pressure  of  the  hand,  and  one  of  her  speaking  looks. 
"A  singular  girl!"  thought  the  latter;  "how  can  anyone 
that  feels  so  deeply,  find  pleasure  in  such  shallow  talk  ?" 

When  she  and  Sarah  had  reached  their  room,  the  latter 
said,  with  a  sigh:  "Virginia  is  good,  but  she  is  of  this 
world!  Does  not  the  Apostle  say:  'She  that  liveth  in 
pleasure,  is  dead  while  she  liveth!'  May  the  Lord  in  His 
heavenly  wisdom  yet  lead  her  from  the  broad  road  of  de- 
struction to  the  narrow  path  of  righteousness  ! 

"  These  late  evening-calls,"  she  continued,  as  she  com- 
menced undressing  herself,  "  are  exceedingly  unpleasant  to 
me,  for  they  prevent  Papa  from  having  evening-worship  ; 
and  yet  he  •'  promised  my  dear  mother  on  her  death-bed  not 
to  neglect  this  duty  of  a  Christian  father  of  a  family.  Now, 
to  be  sure,"  she  added,  putting  some  pins  on  the  pincushion, 
"  he  only  does  like  the  Episcopalians,  who  stop  half-way,  and, 
after  the  manner  of  the  Papists,  read  their  prayers  ;  but 
even  that  is  better  than  no  domestic  altar. 

"  However,"  she  went  on,  putting  on  and  carefully  button- 
ing her  nightdress,  "he  ought  not  to  mind  the  visitors,  for 
we  should  not  be  ashamed  of  a  Saviour  who  has  bled  for  us. 
What  if  He  should  be  ashamed  of  us  before  the  throne  of 
grace — of  us,  whose  righteousness  only  hangs  about  us  like 
filthy  rags  !  If  the  Lord  had  not  called  my  mother  home  so 
early,  much  would  be  different." 

"  Were  you  very  young  when  you  lost  your  mother,  poor 
Sarah  ?"  asked  Clotilde. 


A   NEW   LIFE.  89 

"  My  mother  left  us,"  replied  Sarah,  throwing  a  hasty 
glance  at  the  glass,  to  smooth  her  hair  under  her  night- 
cap, "when  I  was  hardly  twelve  years  old.  Day  after 
to-morrow  it  will  be  just  six  years.  It  was  a  hard  trial  for 
me,  and  for  my  poor  father  too,  who  had  already  buried  one 
wife,  Virginia's  mother.  But  would  it  not  be  wrong  to 
sorrow,  as  she  is  the  gainer,  while  we  only  are  the  losers  ? 
She  had  fulfilled  her  mission  !  Yes,  she  had  obtained  grace !" 

She  suppressed  a  rising  tear  as  she  said  this,  while  hanging 
up  and  folding  the  clothes  she  had  just  taken  off.  Then  she 
sat  down  by  the  toilet-table,  read  a  chapter  in  the  Bible,  and, 
kneeling  down  by  her  bed,  prayed  for  about  ten  minutes  with 
closed  eyes  and  in  a  low  whisper.  After  this  she  laid  herself 
down,  with  the  remark  that  it  was  already  late,  and  she  had 
therefore  not  prayed  as  long  as  usual — but  did  not  divert  her 
mind  by  other  talk  ;  and  when  she  had  bid  Clotilde  good- 
night, and  enjoined  her  not  to  stay  up  too  late,  she  was  in  a 
few  minutes  wrapped  in  sound,  gentle  slumber. 

While  Sarah  was  reading  and  praying,  Clotilde  had  quietly 
unpacked  her  clothes  and  hung  up  her  dresses — she  had  only 
the  most  necessary  wardrobe — in  a  small  closet  which  Sarah 
had  emptied  for  her.  A  drawer  of  Sarah's  bureau  was  also 
put  at  her  disposal,  and,  unaccustomed  as  she  had  been  from 
her  youth  to  the  limited  space  which  even  wealthy  American 
ladies  are  often  contented  with,  she  thought  it  quite  fortunate 
that  her  supply  of  linen  and  other  articles  of  dress  was  email 
in  proportion,  as  otherwise  she  would  have  been  obliged  to 
keep  her  trunk  in  constant  use,  just  as  if  she  had  been  travel- 
ling— an  uncomfortable  state,  which  is  characteristic  of  the 
land  of  motion,  to  which  fate  had  led  her,  and  not  unfrequent 
there,  though  little  felt. 

She  had  purposely  undertaken  this  mechanical  occupation 
while  Sarah  was  still  awake.  More  over-excited  than  fatigued, 
she  needed  quiet  and  solitude  to  collect  and  calm  herself,  and 
to  place  her  neart  before  Him  who  alone  could  breathe  into 


90  THE   EXILES. 

it  true  consolation.  Why  was  Sarah's  methodical,  unimpas- 
sioned  piety,  which,  however,  came  from  her  inmost  heart, 
and  ensured  to  her  the  richest  treasure  of  existence,  a  quiet 
conscience,  almost  more  repulsive  to  her  than  Virginia's 
worldliness  and  coquetry  ?  Never  yet  had  she  seen  devotion 
in  this  dry,  unimaginative  form  ;  just  the  opposite  of  the  en- 
thusiastic exaltation,  the  ascetic  fervour  of  Donna  Josepha  ! 

She  looked  at  the  sleeping  girl ;  how  softly,  how  calmly 
she  breathed  !  How  lovely,  like  an  emblem  of  the  most 
perfect  peace,  did  that  young  blooming  face  peep  out  from 
the  snow-white  cap  !  Oh  !  was  she  not  to  be  envied  ? 

Clotilde  approached  Sarah's  table,  and  opened  her  bible 
at  the  mark  which  she  had  left  in  it.  She  wished  to  see 
what  part  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  had  exerted  such  a  strangely 
soothing  influence  over  her,  after  her  heart  had  just  been 
pained  by  her  conversation  about  her  sister's  dangerous 
course,  her  father's  indifference,  and  the  early  loss  of  her 
mother.  She  saw  with  astonishment  that  Sarah  had  just 
been  reading  the  twelfth  chapter  of  Joshua,  the  record  of 
the  great  warrior's  victory,  which  contains  a  topographical 
description  of  the  conquered  land,  and  the  names  of  the 
thirty-one  vanquished  kings.  And  yet,  in  reading  it,  she  had 
looked  as  attentive  as  if  she  were  reading  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount,  or  some  other  immediate  outpouring  of  the  Spirit. 

Clotilde  did  not  know  that  Sarah  made  it  a  rule  to  read 
the  Bible  through  in  order,  from  beginning  to  end,  at  her 
morning  and  evening  devotions,  and  only  at  other  times 
allowed  her  heart  the  luxury  of  drinking  in  its  favourite  por- 
tions. And  are  there  not,  among  her  brethren  in  the  church, 
many  most  estimable  families,  where  the  genealogies  and  the 
reports  of  the  bloodiest  atrocities  of  the  degenerate  people 
of  God,  serve  just  as  much  for  an  introduction  to  family- 
prayer  as  other  parts  of  the  Bible,  because  it  might  appear 
like  sinfully  despising  the  "Word  of  God  to  pass  over  these 
and  certain  other  portions,  at  the  reading  of  Which  the  mis- 


A   NEW   LIFE.  91 

tress  of  the  house,  at  least,  would  prefer  not  to  have  her 
daughters  and  young  maid-servants  present. 

Clotilde,  too,  had  early  accustomed  herself  to  regulate  her 
intercourse  with  God  by  certain  forms  and  hours.  With  her, 
however,  it  was  not  the  effect  of  a  habit  formed  by  education. 
Her  parents,  though  they  could  be  called  good,  practical 
Christians  in  one  sense,  and  pious  ones,  as  far  as  they  lived 
and  acted  with  reference  to  God,  had  yet  been  strongly  in- 
fected by  the  rationalism  of  the  age,  which  attaches  small 
value  to  such  forms,  such  hours.  During  her  years  of  devel- 
opment, Clotilde,  not  satisfied  with1  the  slight  manifestation 
of  piety  in  her  beloved  and  honoured  parents,  had  been  at 
variance  with  herself.  For  a  time  she  had  thought  it  sufficient 
to  begin  her  day  with  virtuous  resolves,  and  end  it  with  self- 
examination  and  the  endeavour  to  attune  her  soul  to  that 
universal  feeling  of  love  which  Coleridge  describes  so  finely  ; 
that  calm,  reverent  quiet  and  self-denial,  in  which  no  wish 
arises,  no  thought  finds  expression,  and  the  soul  as  it  were 
only  loses  itself  in  the  spirit  of  prayer,  in  the  sole  conscious- 
ness of  its  own  weakness,  its  own  worthlessness,  and  God's 
power,  wisdom,  and  love.  But  then  she  again  felt  how  just 
this  weakness  inclines  the  human  heart  to  let  itself  be  diverted 
from  collecting  itself  for  this  formless,  unconscious  prayer, 
and  be  disturbed  in  its  devotion,  unless  a  fixed  form  supports 
and  limits  the  thoughts,  and  a  certain  reminding  time  holds,  as 
it  were,  a  warning  influence  over  our  wandering  ideas.  She 
had  therefore  gathered  all  her  soul's  chief  wishes,  expressions 
of  gratitude,  and  prayers  for  grace  and  mercy,  into  a  certain 
simple  form  of  words,  which  she  repeated  daily — sometimes,  we 
will  confess,  for  it  was  only  human,  almost  mechanically,  and 
with  hardly  conquered  abstraction  ;  but  generally  with  a 
warmth  that  came  from  her  inmost  heart,  and  with  which,  too, 
she  confidingly  brought  before  that  God  who  was  her  father, 
her  comforter,  her  friend,  those  particular  desires  which  were 
connected  with  the  events  of  the  day.  But,  above  all,  she 


92  THE    EXILES. 

strove  fervently  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  one  chief  prayer, 
and  to  let  all  her  thoughts,  all  her  words,  be  penetrated  by 
the  one  wish  :  "  Lord,  Thy  will  be  done  !" 

To-night,  too,  though  late,  and  after  a  long  struggle,  she 
laid  herself  down  to  rest  by  Sarah's  side  with  a  resigned 
spirit. 


FAMILY   SCENES.  93 


CHAPTER  VII. 

FAMILY       SCENES. 

/"1LOTILDE,  notwithstanding  her  final  success  in  collecting 
v  herself,  had  been  kept  awake  the  greater  part  of  the 
night  by  excitement ;  her  morning-sleep,  therefore,  laid  itself 
so  heavily  upon  her  consciousness,  that  she  only  awoke  at  a 
slight  touch  from  Sarah,  who  stood  before  her  in  a  simple 
morning-dress. 

She  started  up.  "  Poor  Miss  Osten,"  said  Sarah,  kindly, 
"  you  have  had  a  sad  night  !  But  the  breakfast-bell  will 
soon  ring,  and  I  thought  you  would  like  to  be  ready.  I  will 
leave  you  alone  now,  to  attend  to  some  little  household-duties. 
May  He  who  gave,  and  who  hath  taken  away,  comfort  you  I" 

She  left  her  with  a  kiss.  Clotilde  dressed  herself  quickly, 
and  had  just  finished,  when  she  heard  a  loud  bell,  which 
reminded /her  of  some  public  institution.  She  immediately 
descended  three  pair  of  stairs  to  the  basement,  where  Sarah 
had  told  her  that  the  dining-room  was.  At  that  moment 
a  lady  on  horseback  galloped  up  to  the  house — it  was  Vir- 
ginia, accompanied  by  Alonzo,  for  he  had  taken  her  at  her 
word,  and  obtained  the  favour  of  a  short  ride  before  breakfast. 
She  looked  beautiful  in  her  Amazon  dress — her  green  cloth 
riding-habit  with  gilt  buttons,  and  a  little  black  hat  with  feath- 
ers, gave  her  the  appearance  of  a  huntress ;  the  fresh  morning- 
air  had  spread  the  loveliest  glow  over  her  cheeks.  Alonzo's 
eyes  hung  upon  her  with  delight,  and  even  her  stern  father 
looked  at  her  with  obvious  satisfaction. 


94  THE   EXILES. 

And,  being  in  high  spirits,  she  showed  no  particular  inclina- 
tion to  shorten  this  enjoyment  of  her  two  admirers,  by  changing 
her  habit  for  a  less  becoming  morning-dress  ;  on  the  contrary, 
she  declared  that  she  was  ravenously  hungry,  sat  down  at  the 
table,  and  called,  with  comically  exaggerated  impatience,  for 
something  to  eat  and  drink,  while  she  overwhelmed  her  cousin 
with  jesting  reproaches  for  having  persuaded  her  to  take  such 
a  long  ride,  and  made  him,  by  trifling  railleries,  looks,  and 
allusions,  the  happiest  of  men. 

After  breakfast,  Mr.  Castleton  again  seized  the  large  bell, 
to  call  the  servants  to  prayers,  which  in  this  house  were  gene- 
rally held  when  the  stomachs  of  the  family  were  filled,  and 
while  those  of  the  servants,  who  had  risen  much  earlier,  were 
still  longing  for  their  breakfast.  But  Virginia  declared  she 
felt  too  hot  to  bear  it  any  longer,  and  must  first  change  her 
dress.  "  Come  back  soon,  then,"  said  her  father  ;  "  bow  much 
time  do  you  need  ?"  "  Not  five  minutes,  Papa  !"  But  five, 
ten,  fifteen  minutes  passed,  and  Virginia  did  not  appear.  The 
family  and  the  servants  in  attendance,  who  had  already  taken 
their  places,  were  waiting  in  silent  impatience.  The  two 
gentlemen  had  taken  up  the  papers.  At  length  Phyllis,  Vir- 
ginia's maid,  entered  the  room.  She  was  a  negro  beauty  of 
most  voluptuous  figure,  her  face  more  gray  than  black,  with 
brown  moonlight  eyes,  and  two  rows  of  teeth  which  would 
have  shone  through  the  darkest  night.  She  came  to  excuse 
her  mistress.  "  She  was  too  tired  to  come  down  again,  and 
had  lain  down." 

"  Well  then  !"  said  Mr.  Castleton,  rang  the  bell  with 
an  energy  that  betrayed  his  ill-humour,  and  hastily  seized  the 
prayer-book.  At  this  summons  several  negro  women  came  in 
from  the  kitchen,  some  with  coloured  handkerchiefs  around 
their  heads,  others  with  their  woolly  hair  covering  their  skulls 
like  a  cap.  All  sat  in  silence,  Mr.  Castleton  with  the  velvet- 
covered  prayer-book  in  his  hand,  when  suddenly  he  looked  at 
his  watch  and  started  up. 


FAMILY   SCENES.  95 

"  I  have  an  appointment  at  half-past  eight  precisely.  I 
am  sorry,  Sarah  !  But  I  must  go  to  my  office.  Once  more, 
I'm  very  sorry — but  the  affair  is  important ." 

The  servants  rose  to  go  away,  but  Sarah,  whose  young 
face  glowed  with  a  holy  earnestness,  said  resolutely  : 

"  Keep  your  seats,  my  friends !  Go,  Papa,  if  you  must 
go.  Meanwhile  I  will  try  to  supply  your  place  at  the  family- 
altar.  I  know  it  is  written  :  '  Let  the  women  learn  in  silence/ 
and  '  I  suffer  not  a  woman  to  teach/ — but  it  is  better  that 
these,  whose  souls  the  Lord  himself  has  placed  in  our  keeping, 
should  receive  the  Bread  of  Life  from  my  weak  hands,  than 
not  at  all." 

Mr.  Castleton  looked  embarrassed,  muttered  something 
about  twenty  thousand  dollars  that  were  at  stake,  and  went 
his  way.  But  Sarah  laid  the  prayer-book  aside,  took  up  the 
bible  which  lay  on  the  mantelpiece — as  indeed,  by  her  manage- 
ment, there  was  one  to  be  found  in  every  room  in  the  house — 
and  read,  with  a  clear  voice  and  simple  delivery,  the  last  half 
of  the  fourteenth  chapter  of  Luke.  She  did  not  mind  it,  that 
the  story  of  the  guests  bidden  to  the  supper  exposed  her 
father  and  sister,  who  were  absent  on  trifling  grounds  ;  she 
felt  that  just  at  such  a  moment  the  parable  would  make  more 
impression  than  ever  on  the  souls  entrusted  to  her,  and  this 
was  of  more  importance  to  her  than  all  claims  of  an  artificial 
delicacy.  She  then  knelt  beside  her  chair,  in  which  all  present 
followed  her  example.  With  a  perfectly  natural  voice,  and 
a  flow  of  words  disturbed  by  no  false  shame,  she  made  a  long, 
extemporaneous  prayer,  in  which,  however,  the  total  want  of 
individuality  and  its  perfect  logical  order,  showed  Clotilde 
that  it  was  no  momentary  outpouring  of  the  heart,  but  a 
train  of  thought  composed  of  the  rich  phraseology  of  Scrip- 
ture, to  arrange  which  with  some  fluency  any  frequent  visitor 
of  prayer-meetings  easily  learns. 

A  few  hours  later,  Virginia  requested  Clotilde's  company 
in  her  room.  Virginia's  apartments  were  very  different  from 


96  THE   EXILES. 

Sarah's  ;  every  thing  betrayed  the  aesthetic  inclinations  of 
their  inmate,  while  the  simple  furnishing  of  Sarah's  room  bore 
witness  to  the  simplicity  of  her  tastes.  Splendid  Wilton  car- 
pets, soft  and  elastic  as  if  lined  with  down,  a  couple  of 
ottomans  covered  with  purple  velvet,  a  French  bedstead  with 
a  canopy  and  rich  curtains,  marble  slabs  and  mirrors  wherever 
there  was  a  place  for  them,  and  finally  the  true  American 
luxury  of  several  large  and  small  rocking-chairs,  covered  with 
velvet,  gave  Virginia's  chamber  a  look  at  once  elegant  and 
comfortable.  In  the  adjoining  boudoir,  the  door  of  which 
stood  open,  and  over  which  curtains  of  crimson  silk  threw  a 
soft  rosy  light,  every  new  invention  of  the  most  refined 
Parisian  luxury  was  attached  to  the  rich  toilet-table,  as  well 
as  the  marble  bathing-apparatus.  But  more  than  to  all  these, 
Clotilde's  attention  was  drawn  to  an  exquisite  marble  bust, 
which  stood  on  a  pedestal  in  one  corner  of  the  room.  It  was 
a  female  head  of  the  most  faultless  beauty,  the  work  of  an 
eminent  Italian  sculptor.  Clotilde  took  it  for  an  Agrippina, 
or  the  ideal  portrait  of  a  Semiramis,  but  she  heard  that  it  was 
the  bust  of  Virginia's  mother,  a  perfect  likeness,  for  which  she 
had  sat  to  the  artist  when  travelling  in  Italy.  The  daughter, 
who  had  hardly  known  her  mother,  carried  on  a  sort  of 
idolatry  with  the  beautiful  image.  She  adorned  it  with 
flowers.  She  kept  her  prayer-books  on  the  broad  ledge  of  the 
pedestal.  When  a  wish  was  refused  her — a  thing  that  very 
rarely  happened — and  she  felt  unhappy,  she  would  throw  her- 
self on  her  knees  before  her  mother's  bust,  and,  with  tears, 
implore  the  new  saint — who  had  been  a  woman  of  a  passion- 
ate, imperious  disposition — to  have  pity  on  her  child,  and  to 
take  her  daughter,  neglected  and  unloved  by  all,  to  her  heart. 
The  fair  image  was  carefully  covered  with  a  protecting  veil  of 
gauze,  and  frequent  urgent  injunctions  were  given  to  Phyllis 
to  be  cautious  in  dusting,  and  not  injure  it  by  too  much 
handling. 

When  Clotilde  entered  the  room,  she  found  Virginia  at- 


F  A  M  1 L  V     S  C  E  N  fi  S .  97 

tired  in  a  rich  silk  dress,  with  collar  and  cuffs  of  costly  lace, 
bedecked  Math  chains,  bracelets,  and  rings,  and  an  embroidered 
handkerchief  in  her  hand,  from  which  the  sweetest  odour  of 
roses  spread  itself  through  the  whole  room.  Clotilde  thought 
she  was  going  out  to  ride,  but  even  in  this  case  her  dress  did 
not  seem  to  her  European  taste  to  be  suitable  for  a  morning- 
toilet.  But  she  was  told  that  Virginia,  like  all  fashionable 
ladies,  was  always  dressed  thus  from  one  or  two  o'clock,  ready 
to  receive  calls.  To-day  she  had  finished  her  toilet  rather 
earlier  than  usual,  so  as  to  have  time  to  see  Clotilde  before 
her  numerous  friends  and  admirers  arrived. 

"  Miss  Osten,"  she  said,  giving  Clotilde  a  cordial  welcome 
with  her  brilliant  eyes,  "  you  cannot  imagine  how  truly  I  have 
longed  to  make  your  acquaintance,  to  be  instructed  by  you  in 
your  beautiful  language,  to  be  initiated  by  you  into  the 
temple  of  your  incomparable  literature  !  Oh,  how  impatient 
I  am  to  read  Goethe,  and  Schiller,  and  particularly  your 
philosophical  writers  !" 

"  I  judge  from  your  wishes,  that  you  have  already  studied 
my  language  for  some  time,  and  made  yourself  familiar  with 
the  grammatical  part  of  it." 

"  Very  imperfectly,  Miss  Osten.  I  studied  German  at 
boarding-school  in  New  York,  but  it  was  only  just  beginning 
to  be  fashionable  then,  and  I  did  not  care  much  about  it  yet. 
And,  altogether,  I  hate  the  commonplace  mechanical  part  of 
learning  languages — in  all  studies  I  hate  the  technical  por- 
tion. I  want  nothing  but  the  mind,  and  that  breathes  upon 
me  sympathetically  from  the  writings  of  your  country.  You 
know  Carlisle  ?  Isn't  he  divine  ?  I  fancy  the  German 
philosophers  are  just  like  him  1  And  your  poets  !  We 
haven't  one  that  I  could  compare  to  them  !" 

Clotilde  smiled.  "  Do  not  let  your  enthusiasm  carry  you 
too  far,  Miss  Castleton,"  she  said.  "  Who  has  kindled  this 
spark  within  you  ?  Or  rather,  for  the  spark  may  have  lain 
in  your  nature,  who  has  thus  blown  this  spark  into  a  flame  ?" 


98  THE   EXILES. 

Virginia  fixed  a  look  upon  her,  first  of  surprise,  but  which 
grew  more  and  more  deep  and  intent.  "  Miss  Osten,"  she 
said,  in  a  subdued  voice,  "  you  have  looked  through  my  heart. 
You  understand  me.  Oh  !  Providence  itself  has  brought  you 
to  this  desolate  heart.  You  shall  soon  know  all.  Yes,  I 
have  loved  your  language  only  since  last  summer.  Last 
summer  I  took  my  first  lessons  in  it.  For  those  at  boarding- 
school  I  cannot  count.  For  four  short  weeks,  the  four 
happiest  weeks  of  my  life  !  But  now  I  want  to  learn  it 
thoroughly  from  you.  When  shall  we  begin  ?  To-mor- 
row ?" 

"  To-day,  if  you  like.  And  in  music,  too,  I  wish  to  be  as 
useful  to  you  as  is  in  my  power." 

"Ah,  yes,  music  !  Oh,  how  I  love  German  music  I  Since 
I  have  penetrated  well  into  its  endless  depths,  I  can't  listen 
to  that  superficial  Italian  sing-song  any  more  !  And  our 
English  singing  particularly  ;  that  is  completely  ridiculous  ! 
I  only  fear,  my  dear  Miss  Osten,  that  music  will  make  you 
too  sad.  You  have  lost  so  much,  and  that  so  recently  !" 

"  You  need  not  fear,  Miss  Virginia,"  replied  the  German 
girl,  touched  involuntarily  by  this  trait  of  tender  sympathy 
where  she  had  least  expected  it.  "  I  have  come  to  Charles- 
ton to  instruct  yon  and  your  sister  in  music  and  the  German 
language,  and  it  is  my  wish  and  intention  to  commence 
as  soon  as  possible.  Let  us  at  once  fix  upon  the  hours 
that  are  most  convenient  to  you,  as  mine  are  all  at  your 


They  agreed  with  Sarah,  who  had  joined  them,  that  the 
lessons  should  take  place  immediately  after  breakfast ;  first  a 
German  one  daily  for  both  the  sisters  together,  and  after 
this  a  music  lesson  for  each  on  alternate  days.  As  Sarah  as 
well  as  Virginia  professed  not  to  have  time  for  more  lessons, 
Clotilde  found  that  she  had  the  rest  of  the  day  entirely  at 
her  own  disposal.  How  would  she  have  valued  this  for- 
merly !  But  for  one  to  whom  existence  has  become  a  burden, 


F  A  M  I  L  Y     S  C  E  N  E  8  .  99 

who  can  hope  for  no  more  enjoyment  from  it,  there  lies,  as  it 
were,  a  soothing  influence  in  a  certain  regular  turning  of  the 
wheel  of  time,  marked  by  various  duties — in  an  unwinding 
of  the  thread  by  appointed  tasks,  so  and  so  many  yards  an 
hour.  Clotilde  therefore  almost  regretted  that  she  had 
resolved  to  enter  this  house,  and  not  rather  taken  a  situa- 
tion as  teacher  in  one  of  the  many  schools  she  had  seen 
advertised  in  the  papers,  where  it  is  generally  expected  of 
one  and  the  same  person  to  possess  a  knowledge  of  the 
French,  German,  Italian,  and  Spanish  languages,  a  thorough 
acquaintance  with  music,  and  to  be  able  to  instruct  in  draw- 
ing and  oil-painting.  This  would  at  least  have  given  her  an 
excellent  opportunity  to  deaden  her  feelings  by  constant 
forced  occupation. 

Visitors  had  been  announced  long  since,  but  Virginia  did 
not  go  down  until  Clotilde  had  several  times  reminded  her 
that  they  were  waiting  for  her. 

"What  of  that?"  she  said  ;  "it's  only  a  couple  of  tire- 
some old  ladies  ;  the  daughter  might  be  my  mother  !  I 
don't  know  what  to  say  to  them,  either."  At  that  moment- 
the  servant  came  up  again,  and  announced  Mr.  Seaton 

"  If  you  go  down  immediately  now,"  said  Sarah,  "  they 
will  think  you  have  come  only  on  his  account." 

"  That's  no  matter  !  Our  ladies  have  time  enough  to 
spare,  but  our  young  gentlemen  have  much  less.  They  are 
always  over-busy  in  this  land  of  trade  and  business." 

The  servant  left  the  room,  after  mentioning  that  Mr. 
Alonzo  was  in  the  parlour  too,  and  had  several  times  inquired 
after  Miss  Virginia. 

"Let  him!"  she  said,  disdainfully.  "He's  had  his  gift 
for  to-day  !  I  must  take  care  not  to  spoil  him.  He  would 
like  to  take  the  whole  hand,  when  I  only  stretch  out  a  finger 
to  him." 

While  she  was  speaking,  she  had  been  brushing  over  her 
curls  before  the  glass,  and  now  went  down  to  the  parlour  with 


100  THE   EXILES. 

the  remark  :  "That  Seaton  is  one  of  the  best  of  them,  I'm 
sure !" 

"Why  do  you  not  go  down  to  see  those  ladies,  Miss 
Sarah  ?"  inquired  Clotilde. 

"  I  am  not  acquainted  with  them.  I  associate  with  few 
persons  besides  those  belonging  to  our  church.  Not  that  I 
am  so  exclusive  by  choice.  I  am  sure  there  are  many  good, 
worthy  people  in  every  Christian  church.  But  on  the  one 
hand  I  have  really  not  time  for  so  many  visits,  and  on  the 
other  I  find  that  the  conversation  of  ordinary  worldly  inter- 
course diverts  our  mind  far  too  much,  to  make  it  safe  to  ven- 
ture into  this  confusion.  My  aunt  Gardiner,  who,  as  Scripture 
saith,  is  '  wise  as  a  serpent  and  harmless  as  a  dove,'  has  often 
warned  me  against  life  in  society,  particularly  those  gay 
circles  in  which  Virginia  naturally  shines.  For  she  is  so 
beautiful  and  talented.  And  I  would  have  to  think  much 
more  of  my  dress,  if  I  lived  more  in  the  world,  and  all  that 
would  cost  me  time  and  money,  while  I  can  employ  both 
more  usefully." 

Clotilde  looked  with  some  admiration  at  this  girl  of 
eighteen,  when  she  said  these  words  with  perfect  simplicity. 
True,  she  was  not  half  as  fair  as  Yirginia,  her  figure  was 
rather  short  and  thick,  her  neck  not  long,  and  even  her  face 
had  few  striking  features,  except  a  particularly  pure,  youth- 
ful forehead,  and  a  pair  of  large,  clear,  expressive  eyes  ;  it 
was  only  in  her  fair  blooming  complexion,  which  she  had 
inherited  from  her  New-England  mother,  that  she  had  de- 
cidedly the  advantage  of  her  sister.  On  the  whole  she  might 
be  called  a  pretty  girl,  and  with  her  father's  wealth  and  posi- 
tion in  society,  it  might  be  supposed  that  it  only  depended  on 
her  to  take  her  place  in  it  too.  But  it  was  no  sacrifice  to 
her  to  give  it  up.  She  had  good  sense,  and  a  susceptible 
heart,  but  not  a  trace  of  fancy,  that  dangerous  painter, 
who,  with  magic  colours,  depicts  the  world  so  much  more 
beautiful  to  youthful  impatience,  than  it  really  is.  She  was 


FAMILY   SCENES.  101 

therefore  seldom  in  danger  of  being  tempted  from  the  path 
on  which,  in  early  youth,  the  hand  of  a  loving,  serious-minded 
mother  had  led  her,  and  in  which  the  example  and  admoni- 
tions of  her  New-England  relatives,  among  whom  she  was 
educated,  had  kept  her  walking  quietly  and  faithfully. 


102  THE   EXILES. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FATHER     AND     DAUGHTERS. 

/^LOTILDE  had  not  been  in  this  house  four  weeks,  before 
V  she  had,  it  is  true,  learned  to  love  both  the  sisters,  but 
had  also  come  to  the  conviction  that  she  could  never  feel  at 
home  in  this  family. 

The  claims  laid  upon  her  were  very  few,  and  in  no  other 
place  could  she  have  been  made  to  feel  her  dependence  less, 
for  which  she  was  highly  grateful.  But  one  thing  that  she 
felt  very  painfully,  was  the  want  of  a  room,  however  small, 
to  herself.  And  yet  she  was  aware  that  in  this  large,  elegant 
house,  built  in  the  last  New-York  style,  she  could  not  take 
possession  of  the  smallest  apartment,  without  decidedly  dis- 
turbing the  domestic  arrangements,  or  taking  a  place  among 
the  servants.  The  basement,  as  usual,  was  occupied  by  the 
dining-room,  kitchen,  wash-room,  and  store-rooms.  In  the 
first  story  were  the  parlours,  and  behind  these  a  conservatory 
filled  with  orange-trees  and  other  rare  plants.  In  a  small 
outbuilding  adjoining  the  hall  was  a  pretty  tea-room.  The 
front  rooms  of  the  second  story  were  Virginia's  apartments, 
which  we  have  already  described  ;  the  large  back  chamber 
was  Mr.  Castleton's  bed-room.  Over  the  tea-room  there  was 
a  charming  little  parlour,  lined  throughout  with  elegant  rose- 
wood cabinets,  in  which  stood  two  or  three  hundred  splendidly 
bound  books,  mostly  the  property  of  Virginia.  This  apart- 
ment was  honoured  with  the  name  of  "  the  library."  It  had 
served  the  Misses  Castleton,  since  their  return  from  their 


FATHER   AND   DAUGHTERS.  103 

respective  boarding-schools,  for  their  instruction  in  various 
additional  branches,  and  was  still  used  by  every  member  of 
the  family  for  writing  letters.  Several  very  convenient  arm 
and  rocking-chairs  invited  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  treasures 
ranged  around,  and  at  the  same  time  to  a  quiet  doze,  and 
consequently  this  pleasant  room  was  most  frequented  imme- 
diately after  dinner. 

In  the  third  story  we  have  already  described*  Sarah's 
rooms,  into  which  she  had  so  hospitably  received  Clotilde. 
The  great  simplicity  of  their  arrangement  was  suited  to  her 
whole  character.  The  white  walls  were  not  adorned  by  a 
single  engraving;  there  were  no  dark  curtains  to  soften  the 
full  light,  when  the  sun,  which  was  shut  out  by  dark  green 
blinds,  was  not  upon  that  side  of  the  house;  no  sofa  with 
swelling  cushions  invited  to  rest.  The  bed,  bureau,  toilet- 
table,  and  wash-stand,  as  well  as  the  six  high,  strait-backed 
cane  chairs,  were  neatly  painted  white ;  but  for  convenience 
there  were  two  or  three  low  sewing  or  nursery-chairs,  with 
cane  seats,  whose  constant  rocking  made  Clotilde  sick,  so 
that  she  tied  little  pieces  of  wood  under  the  rockers  of  her 
own,  and  was  often  obliged  to  beg  Sarah,  who,  during  her 
stay  in  New  England,  had  contracted  the  habit  of  a  con- 
tinual, often  unconscious  rocking,  to  stop.  The  two  front 
rooms  of  this  story  were  used  as  spare  rooms,  and  were 
always  occupied  ;  at  present  by  Alonzo  and  aunt  Gardiner, 
who  were  only  temporarily  absent. 

The  attic  rooms,  finally,  were  inhabited  by  the  seven 
servants  who,  besides  the  coachman,  accompanied  the  family 
to  town  every  fall.  Where  then  in  this  house  should  poor 
Clotilde  have  found  a  corner  for  herself? 

Sarah's  room,  however,  was  left  entirely  to  her  most  of 
the  time,  as  the  restless  activity  of  the  latter  kept  her  out  of 
the  house  during  more  than  two  thirds  of  the  day.  Sarah's 
religious  occupations  went  through  the  whole  week.  Two 
evenings  were  regularly  devoted  to  the  church  meetings 


104  THE    EXILES. 

of  her  own  congregation,  Tuesday  to  the  prayer-meeting, 
Thursday  to  lecture.  Besides  this  there  were  so  many  charity 
sermons  to  be  heard  ;  or  some  celebrated  divine  was  to  preach 
in  some  other  church  ;  or  a  missionary  was  to  be  ordained — 
so  that  two  or  three  evenings  more  must  be  calculated  for 
these  extraordinary  occasions.  On  Saturday  evenings  Sarah 
devoted  herself  almost  exclusively  to  the  instruction  of  her 
servants,"  particularly  the  female  part  of  them,  giving  them 
tasks  for  the  ensuing  week,  examining  them  upon  those  of  the 
past,  and  reading  and  explaining  the  Bible  to  them.  In  the 
country,  where  she  had  more  time,  she  had  taught  most  of 
the  women  and  girls  reading  and  the  rudiments  of  arith- 
metic. Only  writing  she  did  not  teach  them,  and  purposely 
omitted  to  enlighten  them  upon  the  state  of  the  world  and 
the  progress  of  the  human  race.  For  Sarah  was  strict  in  her 
obedience  to  legal  authority  ;  but  she  believed  that  in  this 
way  she  obeyed  the  severe  law  which  forbids  the  instruction 
of  slaves,  in  the  spirit  at  least,  as  she  said,  without  offending 
against  the  higher  Law  which  commanded  her  not  to  deprive 
them  of  the  Water  of  Life,  and  without  unfitting  them  for 
practical  life.  How  much  she  had  the  moral  education  of 
her  slaves  at  heart,  she  proved,  among  other  things,  by 
choosing  every  year  a  new  girl  for  her  personal  service, 
mostly  a  very  young  one,  of  sixteen  or  seventeen,  whom  she 
took  to  town  with  her  in  the  fall,  and  put  herself  into  con- 
stant communication  with,  in  order  to  gain,  in  this  manner, 
a  personal  influence  over  some  of  these  neglected  creatures, 
which  course,  indeed,  prevented  her  from  ever  having  a  skil- 
ful, practised  servant,  and  made  it  necessary  for  her  to  be 
possessed  of  an  inexhaustible  stock  of  patience. 

Sarah's  mornings  and  afternoons  were  not  less  taken  up 
than  her  evenings.  For  she  was  a  member  of  two  societies; 
the  Dorcas  Society,  which  met  every  Wednesday  morning  to 
sew  for  the  poor  of  the  church,  and  the  Young  Ladies  Sewing 
Society,  which  worked  for  the  missionaries,  and  whose 


FATHER   AND    DAUGHTERS.  105 

members  also  came  together  weekly,  to  prick  their  tender 
fingers  to  pieces  on  the  coarse  shirts  of  the  reverend  men, 
while  a  hired  seamstress  was  sitting  at  home  and  making  up 
their  own  finer  linen  for  them.  In  this  society  Sarah  had, 
besides,  the  office  of  secretary,  and  had  enough  to  do  with 
endless  writing,  when  a  box  of  wearing  apparel  for  Tamul, 
or  the  Sandwich  Islands,  or  Liberia,  had  to  be  accompanied 
by  letters.  And  if,  as  often  happened,  a  young  missionary 
was  to  be  provided  for,  who,  indeed,  could  not  be  sent  out 
into  the  world  entirely  without  an  outfit,  the  industry  was 
redoubled,  and  several  hours  of  two  or  three  successive  days 
were  devoted  to  the  messenger  of  God,  and  the  trifling 
remembrances  of  home  which  were  to  be  given  him  on  the 
way. 

Besides  this,  Sarah  was  also  one  of  the  most  efficient 
members  of  a  Sabbath-school  Union,  the  object  of  which  was 
to  seek  out  poor  irreligious  families,  to  persuade  them,  if  the 
parents  themselves  did  not  go  to  church,  at  least  to  send  the 
children  to  Sunday-school,  and  which  undertook  to  clothe 
these  children  ;  a  troublesome  business,  for  which  another 
morning  of  every  week  was  set  apart.  Then  there  were 
meetings  of  Sabbath-school  teachers,  private  prayer-meetings 
of  church  members,  and  besides  these  ordinary  meetings,  so 
many  extraordinary  ones,  that  Clotilde  easily  comprehended 
that  Sarah's  time  was  completely  taken  up.  And  if  we  add 
that  Sarah  also  superintended  the  household,  as  far  at  least 
as  is  necessary  in  a  family  where  there  are  seven  servants, 
and  one  of  them  steward — we  must  admit  that  German  had 
to  be  rather  secondary,  and  there  was  no  possibility  of  any 
progress  in  music  during  the  six  week-days. 

But  all  this  was  nothing  to  her  pious  activity  on  Sunday 
— or,  not  to  insult  Sarah's  memory,  the  Sabbath — for  nothing 
was  more  offensive  to  her  than  that  heathen  appellation,  and 
she  had  learnt  in  Boston  never  to  speak  otherwise  of  the 
last-created  day  than  as  the  Sabbath  or  the  Lord's  Day — 
5* 


106  THE   EXILES. 

when  it  bordered  on  the  incredible.  Although  on  this  day 
breakfast  was  later  than  usual  in  Mr.  Castleton's  family,  she 
never  allowed  herself  to  sleep  longer  on  that  account,  but 
only  employed  the  additional  time  for  prolonged  private 
devotions,  and  for  dressing  at  once  for  the  whole  day.  And 
on  these  occasions,  Clotilde,  with  some  surprise,  indeed,  saw 
her  put  on  such  rich  silk  dresses,  and  collars  and  cuffs  so 
costly,  and  fasten  these  with  such  valuable  pins,  that  she 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  only  the  excessive  richness  of 
dress  so  usual  among  American  ladies  could  explain  or  excuse 
this  in  one  who  renounced  so  decidedly  all  the  world's  vani- 
ties. After  breakfast  Sarah  could  rarely  wait  for  the  family- 
worship  so  coolly  carried  on.  She  generally  left  the  table 
before  the  rest  of  the  family  had  finished,  to  go  to  the  Sabbath- 
school,  which  possessed  in  her  one  of  its  most  faithful  teach- 
ers. After  morning  service,  she  hastily  took  a  few  mouthfuls 
of  dinner,  for  Sunday-school  was  again  waiting  for  her,  and 
this  was  followed  by  afternoon  service.  From  church  Sarah 
went  direct  to  a  Bible-class,  which  she,  with  several  other 
young  ladies,  had  formed  for  the  benefit  of  some  poor  girls 
who  had  grown  up  without  religious  instruction,  and  who 
seemed  too  old  to  mingle  with  the  children  of  the  Sunday- 
school.  This  Bible  lesson  ended,  she  had  just  half  an  hour 
left  before  tea,  which  she  sometimes  employed  at  home  in 
reading  a  religious  book  ;  often,  however,  there  was  a  private 
prayer-meeting  at  the  church,  which  she  never  missed.  She 
had  often  not  yet  finished  her  tea — which,  being  particularly 
plentiful  on  account  of  the  early  dinner,  Mr.  Castleton  liked 
to  make  a  longer  meal  of  than  usual,  being  at  leisure,  and 
having  done  his  duty  by  going  twice  to  church — when  the 
bells  called  her  to  evening  service.  When  she  at  length  came 
home  again,  after  nine  o'clock,  she  would  feel,  to  be  sure, 
rather  fatigued  by  the  constant  occupation  of  her  mind  during 
the  day,  and  would  have  preferred  to  retire  immediately,  but 
she  still  remained  awhile  with  the  rest  of  the  family,  to  do 


FATHER   AND   DAUGHTERS.  107 

what  was  in  her  power  towards  preventing  conversation  from 
takinir  a  frivolous,  or  in  any  way  worldly  turn,  which,  as 
t'dift/iny  remarks  would  rarely  take  root,  generally  amounted 
to  a  tedious  dragging  out  of  every-day  phrases,  until,  at  an 
early  hour,  Mr.  Castleton,  after  repeated  yawns,  took  his 
lamp  to  go  to  bed,  and  his  example  was  followed  by  the 
whole  party.  Calls  were  not  received  on  the  Sabbath — a  rule 
for  which  Sarah  had  obtained  her  father's  authority,  notwith- 
standing Virginia's  far  more  powerful  influence.  When  Sarah 
came  to  her  room  towards  ten  o'clock,  she  thought  it  right 
to  read,  on  the  Lord's  day,  two  chapters  in  the  Bible  instead 
of  one,  and  to  prolong  her  prayer  in  the  same  proportion. 
In  what  a  state  of  fatigue  must  she  at  length  have  sunk  upon 
her  pillow  !  But  how  quickly,  and  with  what  sweet  con- 
sciousness of  having  shunned  no  exertion  of  her  powers  in 
the  service  of  her  Saviour,  did  she  fall  asleep  ! 

It  could  easily  be  seen  that  Virginia  was  Mr.  Castleton's 
favourite.  But  he  had  a  father's  heart  for  Sarah  too,  and  her 
influence  over  him  was  by  no  means  inconsiderable.  She  was 
to  him  the  saint  of  the  family,  who,  as  it  were,  was  pious  for 
them  all  ;  and  if  her  occupations  and  her  manner  were  some^ 
times  vexatious  to  him,  he  still  esteemed  her  too  highly  not 
always  to  regard  her  opinions.  If  he  loved,  indulged,  and 
cherished  Virginia  like  his  own  material  outer  man,  like  his 
own  selfish  disposition,  he  stood  in  awe  of  Sarah  as  of — his 
conscience. 

Richard  Castleton  was  a  worthy  man.  As  member  of 
Congress  he  had  repeatedly,  and  recently  in  the  Senate, 
drawn  the  eyes  of  the  nation  upon  himself  ;  he  had  twice  been 
Governor  of  his  own  state,  and  his  legal  practice  was  so 
extended  that  it  would  have  made  a  rich  man  of  him  even  if 
he  had  not  been  wealthy  from  the  beginning.  He  was  gen- 
erous in  money-affairs  ;  his  name  headed  every  subscription- 
list  for  the  public  benefit,  and  in  any  enterprise  which  had  for 
its  object  the  material  improvement  of  his  state  or  his  county, 


108  THE   EXILES. 

his  fellow-citizens  could  count  upon  his  taking  an  active  part. 
With  all  this  he  possessed  a  high  degree  of  North  American, 
and,  particularly,  South  Carolinian  patriotism  :  that  is,  he  did 
not  doubt  that  the  United  States  were  the  seat  of  the  highest 
intelligence,  and  that  true  Christianity  was  to  be  found  there 
alone.  And  he  considered  it  beyond  all  question,  that  the 
state  of  culture  in  the  United  States  left  that  of  Europe  far 
behind  it,  and  that  science  and  the  fine  arts  existed  there  in 
a  highly  improved  state,  inasmuch  as  they  had,  fpjr  the  first 
time,  been  put  to  a  practical  use,  which  was,  after  all,  the 
chief  thing.  South  Carolina  was,  in  his  opinion,  the  inmost 
core,  the  heart  of  the  United  States.  When  the  notorious 
N unification  question  was  brought  up,  he  had  been  one  of  its 
loudest  defenders,  and  had  preferred  a  dissolution  of  the 
Union  to  even  the  smallest  sacrifice  of  that  which  he  looked 
upon  as  the  right  or  the  privilege  of  his  own  state.  Other- 
wise he  was  decidedly  conservative,  though  mostly  only  when 
that  true,  chivalrous  heart  of  Uncle  Sam,  that  is,  his  state 
and  its  institutions,  was  concerned.  Notwithstanding  that 
in  politics  he  belonged  to  the  Whig  party,  and  favoured 
Massachusetts,  he  still  hated  New  England,  and  it  was  an 
unfathomable  secret  what  had  induced  him  to  take  his  second 
wife  from  there.  He  had  a  deadly  hatred  for  Massachusetts 
as  the  nest  and  cradle  of  the  Abolitionists.  For  among  the 
peculiarities  of  the  South  which  he  defended,  he  was  particu- 
larly sensitive  to  any  attack  upon  "  the  domestic  institution 
of  slavery,"  in  the  enjoyment  of  which  he  had  grown  up. 

Not  that  he  favoured  slavery  from  any  hardness  of  heart — 
he  was  no  over-severe  master — but  partly  he  held  the  opinion 
that  the  prosperity  of  the  Southern  States  could  not  endure 
without  a  certain  class  of  human  beasts  of  burden  ;  and 
partly  he  believed  that  love  of  liberty  in  the  free  was  height- 
ened by  nothing  so  much  as  by  contrast,  and  that  slaves 
therefore  were  essentially  necessary,  as  a  means  of  education,  to 
awaken  the  love  of  freedom  in  the  white  youth  of  America — 


FATHER    AND    DAUGHTERS.  109 

just  as  the  Spartans,  to  convince  their  youth  of  the  shame 
of  drunkenness,  set  before  them  the  example  of  a  helot  made 
drunk  for  the  occasion.  But  it  was  by  the  incautious  and 
indiscreet  efforts  of  the  various  societies  of  Abolitionists,  that 
lie  was  particularly  exasperated  and  strengthened  in  his  selfish 
views,  and  had  become  the  most  zealous  advocate  of  slavery. 
Indeed,  any  contradiction  oil  this  point  could  excite  him  to 
such  passion,  that  his  daughter  Virginia,  who  could  gener- 
ally do  anything  with  him,  and  had  lately  exchanged  the 
views  of  her  caste  upon  this  subject  for  those  of  a  generous 
heart,  purposely  avoided  to  mention  it  in  his  presence. 

Richard  Castleton,  however,  was  by  no  means  a  domestic 
tyrant  ;  on  the  contrary,  both  his  wives  had  exerted  a  strong 
influence  over  him,  particularly  Virginia's  mother,  who  had 
been  a  woman  of  brilliant  beauty  and  unbounded  love  of 
power.  The  special  preference  which  he  had  for  Virginia, 
her  mother's  image,  showed  itself  less  in  gifts  and  presents, 
which  he  bestowed  on  her  more  than  on  Sarah — indeed,  both 
sisters  had  but  little  need  for  them,  for  both  had  an  ample 
income  from  their  mothers'  inheritance — as  in  a  certain  lover- 
like  indulgence  of  her  caprices,  and  the  very  unfatherly 
homage  which  he  paid  to  her  beauty.  But  his  feelings  must 
show  themselves  outwardly  as  little  as  possible.  The  cold 
selfish  man  could  grow  secretly  restless  when  he  saw  sadness 
in  his  fair  daughter's  face,  he  could  give  up  a  long-cherished 
plan  in  his  domestic  arrangements,  when  he  saw  from  her  ill- 
humour  or  her  impatient  remarks  that  it  was  burdensome  or 
inconvenient  to  her.  But  take  her  by  the  hand,  look  into 
her  eyes  with  a  father's  sympathy,  and  say  to  her  :  "  Virginia, 
what  has  caused  these  tears  ?  have  confidence  in  your  father  !" 
— that  he  could  not  do.  For  he  possessed  that  unfortunate, 
truly  national  reserve,  which  constantly  induced  him  to  keep 
back  his  feelings  with  an  anxiety  that  looked  like  pride. 
However  benevolent  his  sentiments  might  be,  he  could  not 
sat/  one  cordial  word.  He  had  made  both  his  proposals  of 


110  THE    EXILES. 

marriage  in  writing  ;  he  would  sooner  have  lost  the  woman 
he  loved  best  than  have  made  np  his  mind' to  a  verbal  decla- 
ration of  love.  The  objects  of  his  love,  therefore,  must  have 
felt  an  essential  want  in  such  a  lover,  could  never  hope  for 
complete  satisfaction.  For  a  woman's  heart  desires  not  only 
love — the  expression  of  love,  too,  is  necessary  to  it. 

Virginia  seemed  to  have  accustomed  herself  completely 
to  her  father's  manner  ;  she  looked  upon  herself  as  the  mis- 
tress of  the  house,  and  any  regard  which  she  paid  to  the 
other  members  of  her  family  decidedly  bore  the  character  of 
condescension.  She  was  two  years  old  when  her  mother  died, 
and  little  over  three  when  her  father  married  again.  But 
she  already  declared  her  aversion  to  the  new  mistress  of  the 
house  with  passionate  fury,  and  the  child,  already  quite  spoiled 
by  her  grandparents  on  her  mother's  side,  met  the  pious  step- 
mother's gentle  efforts,  which  were,  it  is  true,  not  entirely 
without  prejudice,  with  so  much  obstinacy,  that  the  poor 
woman's  whole  life  wras  embittered  by  it,  and  Mr.  Castleton, 
after  his  wife  had  struggled  for  two  years,  and  had  not  even 
been  able  to  persuade  the  child  to  say  her  prayers  to  her, 
instead  of  to  her  black  nurse,  finally  thought  it  advisable  to 
give  the  little  girl  up  to  her  grandparents,  with  whom  she 
stayed  until  she  was  sent  to  boarding-school  in  New  York. 

As  Virginia  grew  up,  common  sense  softened  her  passion- 
ate temper,  or  rather  restrained  it.  During  her  visits  at  home, 
her  relation  to  her  stepmother  took  the  most  proper  form, 
and  her  half-sister,  little  fair-haired,  demure  Sarah,  even 
became  the  object  of  her  special  affection.  When  she  was 
sixteen,  her  stepmother  died  ;  a  year  later  she  returned  to 
her  father's  house.  Sarah,  meanwhile,  had  been  sent  to 
school  in  Boston.  It  was  only  since  about  two  years  that 
they  had  lived  at  home  together,  and  it  could  not  be  doubted 
that  they  loved  each  other.  Sarah  loved  Virginia  because 
it  was  her  duty  to  love  her  sister  ;  Virginia  loved  Sarah 
because  her  heart  wanted  something  to  love,  because  Sarah 


FATHER    AND    DAUGHTERS.  Ill 

was  so  good,  but  at  the  same  time  not  half  as  fair  as  she, 
and  finally  because  she  in  no  way  crossed  her  path.  She 
even  felt  a  sort  of  veneration  for  her,  in  her  pious,  untiring 
activity.  And  even  though  she  considered  her  sister's  views 
very  narrow,  she  never  ridiculed  them  to  her  ;  it  was  only 
some  of  Sarah's  relations,  particularly  her  aunt  Gardiner, 
against  whom  she  could  not  and  would  not  restrain  her 
shafts. 

Virginia,  since  she  had  left  school — and,  indeed,  while  she 
was  still  at  it — had  revelled  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  American 
young-lady-happiness,  that  is,  she  had  seen  herself  unceasingly 
surrounded  by  a  host  of  admirers,  and  had  been  recognised 
in  Charleston  and  New  York — where  she  had  often  visited 
her  mother's  sister,  who  was  married  there — as  "  the  belle  " 
of  the  most  brilliant  circles.  Two  or  three  times  she  had 
been  reported  engaged — and  what  American  girl  in  society 
could  reach  the  mature  age  of  twenty-two  without  exciting 
the  world's  impatience  to  see  her  married  ? — and  on  two  or 
three  other  occasions  had  really  been  near  it,  but  each  time 
she  herself  had  broken  off  the  affair,  either  by  a  trip  to 
a  watering-place  or  the  country,  or  by  forming  a  new  similar 
relation. 

She  was  less  impatient  on  this  point  than  the  generality 
of  her  fair  countrywomen. ;  she  felt  that  in  marrying  she  must 
give  up  a  large  portion  of  her  independence  and  other  privi- 
leges of  her  sex.  She  knew  that  after  the  strictly  moral  views 
of  her  country,  an  unmarried  woman  can  fly  from  flower  to 
flower,  can  undisturbedly  indulge  her  wish  to  please,  and 
enjoy  the  homage  of  the  stronger  sex,  while  a  wife  has  her 
sphere  restricted  to  her  house  and  her  children,  and,  if  she 
would  retain  the  esteem  of  the  world,  must  be  contented  with 
the  one  admirer,  her  wedded  husband,  from  whom,  it  is  true, 
she  expects  tenfold  attentions,  for  this  very  reason.  Yirginia 
was  resolved  to  save  these  sacrifices  for  only  a  very  extra- 
ordinary case.  Her  fancy  had  always  been  poetically  em- 


112  THE    EXILES. 

ployed,  and  had  been  fed  by  novel-reading.  A  common 
American  suitor,  who  brought  her  in  marriage  a  mother  and 
sisters-in-law,  aunts,  cousins,  etc.,  one  like  a  thousand  others, 
did  not  satisfy  her  ;  he  would  have  to  be  a  noble  foreigner  ; 
a  political  fugitive,  who  had  moved  in  the  first  society  abroad, 
perhaps  a  deposed  prince;  or,  if  a  countryman,  he  must  needs 
be  a  naval  officer.  She  had  a  particular  predilection  for  the 
title  of  Commodore.  She  laughed  at  herself,  when  she  spoke 
in  this  way,  and,  on  the  whole,  her  exalted  ideas  had  perhaps 
been  beneficial  to  her,  for  they  had,  until  now,  kept  her  from 
carrying  any  of  the  miniature  romances  which  were  interwoven 
with  her  life,  further  than  to  a  certain  point  ;  and  the  pub- 
lic, which  acknowledges  a  certain  degree  of  love  of  admira- 
tion as  the  inborn  right  of  every  young  girl,  called  her  less  a 
coquette  than  a  flirt. 

But  there  were  times,  when  Virginia,  who,  with  all  her 
Southern  fire,  had  also  a  tolerable  portion  of  Southern  indo- 
lence, and  for  whole  days  could  lie  stretched  on  the  sofa,  in 
her  loose  white  wrapper,  reading  a  new  novel,  found  it  a  very 
disagreeable  exertion  to  maintain  her  place  on  the  throne  of 
beauty  which  she  occupied  in  society.  High  as  the  position 
is  which  the  American  Man,  in  the  consciousness  of  his  manly 
power  and  generosity,  has  assigned  to  weak  Woman — and 
particularly  to  youth  and  beauty— he  is  yet  too  busy,  too 
much  a  creature  of  progress,  to  be  able  to  devote  much  time 
to  her.  Coyness,  therefore,  and  standing  upon  dignity,  are 
entirely  out  of  place  with  him,  and  this  is  perhaps  one  reason 
that  the  young  girls  of  America  make  a  man's  homage  so 
easy  to  him,  and  so  often  shock  the  foreigner,  before  he  has 
fully  learned  to  understand  the  state  of  things,  by  their  over- 
complaisant  manner.  Do  not,  in  like  manner,  the  young 
princesses  invite  those  whom  they  wish  to  honour,  to  dance 
with  them  ?  A  civility  which  in  every  other  girl  would  be 
considered  an  impropriety.  Virginia's  nature  prompted  her 
more  to  a  proud  acceptance  of  homage,  than  to  seek  it  by 


FATHER    AND    DAUGHTERS.  113 

affability,  invitations,  marks  of  interest,  and  challenging  looks. 
But  could  she  allow  her  young  friends,  most  of  whom  could 
not  compare  with  her  in  beauty  and  talents,  to  gain  an  advan- 
tage over  her  ?  Whoever  has  once  entered  upon  this  career, 
will  soon  be  convinced  that  if  they  make  even  one  stop  in 
the  world's  course,  they  cannot  hope  to  reach  their  aim. 

In  such  hours  of  weariness  it  was,  that  she  reconciled  her- 
self to  the  idea  of  one  day  being  her  cousin's  wife.  Then  all 
would  be  over.  Then  she  would  have  rest,  could  give  her- 
self up  to  the  enjoyment  of  an  indolent,  idle  existence,  and 
would  be  sure  of  an  obliging,  adoring,  and  particularly  a 
icealthy  admirer.  It  was  therefore  important  not  to  reject 
him  entirely,  or  show  a  decided  opposition  to  the  wishes  of 
the  family.  Whether  she  would  finally  fulfil  them  or  not, 
should  be  left  to  time. 

Clotilde  could  feel  no  real  sympathy  with  Virginia.  She 
compared  her  with  herself,  when  she  still  loved  the  world 
and  its  pleasures.  But  how  different  was  the  innocent  love 
of  enjoyment  in  the  soul  of  a  young  girl  a  little  spoiled  by 
love  and  tenderness  on  every  side,  how  different  her  natural 
pleasure  at  the  effect  of  her  charms,  how  totally  different  the 
youthful  presumption  of  a  loving  heart,  for  which  Clotilde 
had  paid  such  a  heavy  penalty,  from  the  wearied,  satiated 
state  of  Virginia's  heart  ! 

Clotilde  soon  saw  that  the  worldly  life  of  the  latter  would 
not  allow  her  much  more  time  for  a  serious  study  of  the  Ger- 
man language  and  of  music,  than  was  left  to  her  sister  by 
what  she  called  her  Christian  duties.  However,  she  threw 
herself  upon  the  former,  particularly,  with  so  much  zeal,  that 
Clotilde,  even  if  Sarah  had  not  put  her  upon  the  track,  would 
speedily  have  come  to  the  conclusion,  that  there  must  be  a 
lover  in  the  case.  And  Virginia  did  not  leave  her  long  in 
doubt,  but  soon  disclosed  all  to  her.  Indeed,  she  spoke  of 
her  passion  with  such  warmth  of  expression,  that  the  German 
girl  involuntarily  dropped  her  eyes. 


114  THE   EXILES. 

"  Give  ine  nothing  to  read,"  she  said,  "but  the  poetry  of 
love,  Clotilde  !  Goethe's,  Chamisso's,  and  whatever  else  your 
great  poets  are  called.  And  particularly,  Heine's.  Yes,  I 
once  heard,  from  beloved  lips,  a  divine  poem  of  Heine's.  You 
look  at  me  in  surprise  !  Well,  I  will  tell  you  all.  In  a  quiet 
hour  I  will  confess  to  you  why  I  so  long  to  learn  the  German 
language." 


THE   SISTERS.  115 


CHAPTER   IX. 


THE     SISTERS. 

T7IRGINIA,  the  next  morning,  was  very  impatient  for  the 
'  end  of  the  German  lesson,  which  she  and  Sarah  still  took 
in  common,  immediately  after  breakfast,  although  they  both 
translated  from  quite  different  books.  Sarah  generally  retired 
after  she  had  translated  a  page  from  Selling's  Life,  and  Clotilde 
had  looked  over  her  written  exercises.  She  did  not  learn 
easily,  but  she  did  so  with  the  same  honest  sense  of  duty 
with  which  she  carried  through  everything  which  she  had  once 
undertaken.  She  had  finished  for  to-day,  placed  her  books  on 
a  side-table,  set  another  one  with  Virginia's  books  before  Clo- 
tilde, and  left  the  room. 

"  At  last  she  is  gone  !"  cried  Virginia.  "  Sallie  is  a  saint. 
She  does  not  understand  my  glowing  heart.  You,  Clotilde, 
are  as  pious,  but  not  as  narrow-minded  as  she.  Will  you  un- 
derstand me  ?  Yes,  you,  you  have  been  sent  to  me  by  God 
himself,  for  you  have  loved." 

She  then  told  her,  what  Clotilde  knew  already  from  gene- 
ral conversation,  that  last  summer  she  had  been  with  Sarah 
in  Rockaway.  Here  two  young  men  of  highly  interesting  ap- 
pearance, who  were  supposed  to  be  Polish  exiles,  and  were 
therefore  only  called  "  the  Polish  Counts,"  had  attracted  the 
attention  of  all  the  young  ladies.  But  vain  had  been  all  ef- 
forts to  draw  them  from  the  seclusion  which  they  had  sought 
in  an  almost  repelling  manner.  They  had  never  come  to  the 
Pavilion,  where  the  beau-monde  from  the  other  boarding- 


116  THE   EXILES. 

houses,  too,  used  to  meet  for  music  and  dancing  ;  never,  like 
the  other  gentlemen,  who  vied  with  each  other  in  coquettish, 
fantastic  costumes,  joined  the  ladies  in  the  bath.  One  of 
them,  with  black  hair  and  moustache,  with  wild,  burning  eyes, 
and  a  bold,  aquiline  nose,  was  particularly  the  hero  of  the 
day.  Her  attention,  too,  had  first  been  attracted  by  him. 
But  the  bold,  rude  stare  which  he  had  fixed  on  her,  and  not 
only  her,  whenever  he  met  the  ladies  in  their  daily  walks  on 
the  beach,  had  soon  rendered  him  disagreeable  to  her.  All 
her  interest  had  soon  been  turned  to  the  younger  of  the 
two  friends,  a  slender  man,  with  brown  hair,  and  a  small,  ele- 
gant moustache,  with  pale  cheeks  and  lips,  but  indescribably 
beautiful,  faithful,  melancholy  eyes.  But  what  gained  for  him 
the  special  sympathy  of  the  young  ladies,  was  that  he  must 
have  been  wounded  in  a  battle,  or  at  least  in  a  duel,  for  he 
wore  his  left  arm  in  a  sling.  Sickliness  in  a  man  is  not  pleas- 
ing to  a  woman's  eye  ;  a  weak  constitution  makes  him  more 
the  object  of  her  pity  than  her  admiration ;  but  a  wound  works 
wonders.  From  Virginia's  inward  nature,  all  that  looked  like 
heroism  had  a  peculiar  charm  for  her.  In  like  manner,  she 
was  attracted  by  his  melancholy,  which  hinted  at  a  mystery. 
She  always  saw  him  sitting  on  the  beach,  far  from  the  fashion- 
able hotels,  sunk  for  hours  in  deep  sadness,  gazing  out  upon 
the  boundless  ocean,  towards  his  distant  native  land.  The 
promenaders  passed  close  behind  him  ;  he  did  not  look  round, 
he  avoided  meeting  any  one,  only  once  or  twice,  when  Vir- 
ginia's bright  eye  had  met  him,  his  had  remained  fixed  admir- 
ingly upon  hers. 

At  last  she  could  resist  no  longer.  When  she  was  walk- 
ing one  day  with  Sarah  and  some  other  young  ladies,  during 
the  gentlemen's  bathing  hours,  on  another  part  of  the  beach, 
they  again  saw  him  sitting  alone  on  two  beams  laid  one  on 
the  other  ;  the  swelling  waves  nearly  touched  his  feet.  She 
commenced,  first  behind  him,  and  then  drawing  imperceptibly 
nearer  the  water's  edge,  to  pick  up  some  of  the  delicate  shells 


THE   SISTERS.  117 

which  the  tide  had  thrown  on  the  beach  and  left  there  in  dis- 
dain. Now  she  stood  close  beside  him,  and,  fixing  upon  him 
one  of  her  conquering,  irresistible  looks,  said  in  French  : 

"  Have  you  found  many  handsome  shells  on  our  beach  ?" 

"  He  looked  at  me  in  surprise,"  continued  Virginia — "  and, 
what  encouraged  me,  with  unmistakable  admiration.  Then 
he  answered,  rising  from  his  seat,  that  he  had  not  taken  any 
pains  to  find  any  yet. 

"  I  just  happened  to  have  some  very  pretty,  delicate  shells 
in  my  hand,  and  gave  them  to  him,  asking  him  to  keep  them  as 
a  remembrance  of  Rockaway,  when,  some  day,  he  would  re  turn 
to  his  liberated  country.  You  know  I  took  him  for  a  Pole. 

"  He  looked  into  my  eyes  with  pleased  surprise.  He  held 
the  shells  in  his  hand  awhile,  then  looked  at  the  little  bright- 
coloured  things  admiringly,  and  thanked  me  with  some  eon- 


"  I  asked  him  why  he  and  his  friend  led  such  a  lonely 
life,  why  he  did  not  sometimes  come  to  the  saloon.  I  had 
long  ago  discovered  that  he  was  living  with  a  farmer  near 
by.  He  was  evidently  not  rich  ;  but  that  only  made  him 
more  interesting  to  me.  How  I  hate  the  greediness  for  gold 
of  this  purse-proud  country  ! 

"  He  answered  me  that  his  state  of  mind  made  him  no  fit 
companion  for  the  society  of  the  happy.  How  that  touched 
me,  Clotilde  !  I  believe  the  tears  were  in  my  eyes  when  I 
asked  him  :  '  How  do  you  know  that  you  will  find  none  but 
the  happy  there  ?' 

"  He  gave  me  a  deep,  deep  look.  Oh,  Clotilde,  that  look 
went  to  my  inmost  heart  !  In  this  look  we  understood  each 
other.  My  companions,  who  had  meanwhile  been  scattered 
over  the  beach,  looking  for  shells,  now  approached  us.  I 
hoped  he  would  go  with  us,  but  he  only  bowed  respectfully, 
and  remained  standing  alone  on  the  shore.  How  melancholy, 
how  picturesque  he  looked,  as  he  stood  there,  gazing  out 
upon  the  wide  ocean,  when  I  several  times  looked  back  at 


118  THE    EXILES. 

him.  He  probably  was  afraid  of  the  chattering  of  my  com- 
panions. For  a  few  evenings  I  vainly  expected  him  in  the 
saloon.  He  did  not  come.  I  only  saw  him  two  or  three 
times,  when  I  was  riding,  and  what  a  triumph  for  my  heart 
to  see  his  admiring,  delighted  looks,  when  I  flew  past  him  on 
the  beach,  surrounded  by  my  knights  and  squires  ! 

"  By  my  inquiries  I  had  at  length  discovered  that  he  was 
no  Pole,  but  a  German  baron.  It  was  said  that  he  had  been 
a  Prussian  officer,  but  had  been  obliged  to  fly,  on  account 
of  the  discovery  of  a  conspiracy.  This  brought  me  to  an 
immediate  decision.  As  there  are  always  so  many  leisure 
hours  at  a  bathing-place,  I  sent  my  cousin  Charles  from  New 
York,  a  boy  of  fifteen,  to  ask  him  if  he  would  give  me  lessons 
in  German  during  our  short  stay  there.  This,  of  course,  gave 
rise  to  much  teazing,  and  all  the  girls  envied  me  the  German 
baron,  as  they  called  him  now,  as  we  could  not  exactly  find 
out  his  name  at  first.  But  what  did  I  care  for  that  ?  I  had 
a  most  charming  time  !" 

"  So  he  came  ?"  asked  Clotilde. 

"  Should  he  not  have  come  ?  Yes,  dearest  Clotilde,  four 
weeks,  four  short  weeks,  I  spent  in  a  boundless  happiness. 
We  could  not,  of  course,  follow  the  common  path,  trodden 
so  broad  and  flat,  of  learning  languages  ;  we  had  no  books, 
no  dictionary,  no  grammar  :  I  only  sent  to  New  York  for 
some  volumes  of  poetry  ;  the  finest  of  these  I  made  him 
translate  literally  to  me.  How  poetical,  how  glorious  were 
his  translations  in  broken  English  ;  even  in  this  deficiency, 
Clotilde,  there  was  a  certain  charm  to  my  ear  1  To  my 
heart,  I  should  say.  But  now  /  taught  him.  I  put  his 
translations  into  English  verse,  I  wrote  them  down,  we  read 
them  together.  But  he  remained  reserved  and  modest.  I 
saw  plainly  that  he  feared  the  rich  heiress  in  me.  And 
could  I  help  loving  him  all  the  more  for  that  ?  Oh,  how  I 
despised  the  gold  which  divided  me  from  him  I" 

"I   see,"   said   Clotilde,  "that   my  countryman  was  au 


THE    SISTERS.  119 

honourable  man.     Oh,  Yirginia,  if  you  only  did  not  make 
his  moderation  too  hard  for  him  !" 

"  Suddenly  he  was  gone  !  One  morning  I  received  a 
letter  from  him,  in  which  he  told  me  that  a  duty,  which  he 
did  not  name,  forced  him  to  leave  Rockaway  ;  that  a  secret 
which  he  might  not  reveal  to  me,  forbade  him  to  lay  bare  his 
heart  before  me,  that  he  thanked  me,  that  he  wished  me 
everything  kind  and  good — and  more  of  the  same  sort.  I 
did  not  know — should  I  be  angry  ?  But  no,  I  could  only 
weep.  What  could  his  secret  be  ?  He  only  grew  dearer, 
more  interesting  to  me  through  this  dark  mystery.  And  I 
had  long  since  grown^tired  of  bathing.  It  is  the  most  stupid 
thing  in  the  world.  I  easily  formed  a  party  among  our 
acquaintances  for  a  visit  to  the  White  Mountains,  whose 
celebrated  beauty  was  yet  unknown  to  me.  We  arrived. 
The  first  day  we  remained  quiet,  fatigued  by  the  journey, 
and,  I  must  confess,  heartily  tired  of  its  inconveniences. 
Late  in  the  evening  two  other  travellers  arrived,  whom  we 
did  not  see.  The  next  morning  we  hired  every  miserable 
mountain-horse  that  could  be  found,  and  commenced  the 
ascent  of  Mount  Washington.  '  Two  gentlemen  have  already 
gone  up  on  foot  this  morning,'  said  our  guide.  When  we 
reached  the  top  I  had  just  dismounted,  and  was  looking 
down  into  the  valley  through  the  mist,  in  which  a  sunbeam 
was  just  making  a  glorious  opening — when  I  heard  some  one 
moving  close  beside  me.  I  looked  round,  and  met  his  eye, 
his  loving,  delighted,  admiring  eye  !  Oh,  Clotilde  !  I 
hardly  knew  myself  any  more.  '  Berghedorf  !'  I  cried, 
'  you  here  !  You  have  followed  me  ?'  '  Virginia/  he  said, 
with  a  strange  smile,  '  is  it  my  destiny  that  brings  you  to  me 
again  ?'  '  I  hope  you  do  not  reproach  your  destiny  for  that, 
Berghedorf?'  I  asked,  smiling  too.  He  kissed  my  hand,  which 
I  had  placed  isi  his.  That  was,  indeed,  very  bold,  and  I 
looked  around  rather  startled,  to  see  if  any  one  had  noticed 
it,  but  they  were  all  turned  to  the  view,  and  Berghedorf 


120  THE  EXILES. 

looked  as  innocent  as  if  he  had  only  made  me  a  bow.  I  will 
not  tire  you  by  telling  you  word  for  word  what  he  said  and 
what  /  said.  Two  short  days  passed  away  like  an  idyl.  He 
was  more  confiding,  more  insinuating  than  in  Kockaway — I 
could  no  longer  doubt  his  love.  Nor  he  mine.  He  often 
sighed,  looked  at  me,  and  sighed  again.  When  we  parted, 
he  promised  soon  to  see  me  again,  soon  to  let  me  hear  from 
him,  and  now' I  am  expecting  him  every  day." 

"Have  you  heard  from  him  since  ?" 

"  No,  that  is  just  the  reason  that  I  expect  him  so  firmly. 
Oh,  I  long  so  for  him  !  He  has  my  heart,  and  no  other  1 
Formerly  I  could  sometimes  think  of  marrying  Alonzo, 
because  my  father  wishes  it,  in  order  to  bring  my  grand- 
father's extensive  lands  together  again.  But  now  I  loathe 
the  idea,  although  my  cousin  still  hopes  for  it.  I  should  not 
like  to  marry  a  slave-owner,  at  any  rate.  Berghedorf  hates 
slavery,  and  has  taught  me  to  hate  it.  He  hates  all  oppres- 
sion." 

Alonzo  remained  in  Charleston  the  whole  winter,  and  it 
was  easy  to  see  that  Virginia  was  right;  that  he  hoped,  by 
love  and  constancy,  finally  to  gain  the  hand  of  his  fair  cousin. 
Clotilde  bad  accustomed  herself  to  look  upon  Alonzo  as  her 
friend,  whom  Providence  itself  had  made  her  deliverer,  and 
who  had  so  generously  and  delicately  respected  her  sorrow. 
True,  here  under  the  influence  of  Yirginia  and  his  uncle,  he 
seemed  to  her  almost  like  another  person.  With  the  latter 
he  agreed  in  all  his  limited  political  views,  only  that,  with  his 
vivacity  and  youth,  everything  agitated  and  excited  him  more, 
and  that  he  defended  the  crooked  and  unjust  opinions  which 
his  uncle  brought  forward  in  a  one-sided,  cold  and  cutting 
manner,  with  heat  and  bitterness,  and  would  have  urged 
them  upon  those  who  thought  otherwise,  on  the  strength  of 
his  word  as  a  cavalier.  Virginia's  influence  had  a  still  more 
powerful  eifect,  and  Clotilde  had  to  admire  the  skill  with 
which  she  could  subdue  the  young  man's  passionate  tern- 


THE   SISTERS.  121 

perameut,  and  managed:  to  maintain  towards  him  her  relation 
of  a  cousin,  who  was  conscious  of  the  superiority  which  was 
given  her  partly  by  her  being  a  year  older  than  he,  partly 
by  her  sex,  and  partly  by  her  beauty  ;  showing  this  by 
taking  many  little  liberties  with  him  herself,  which  only 
served  to  entangle  the  poor  love-stricken  youth  more  and 
more,  but  at  the  same  time  always  keeping  him  within  the 
bounds  of  respect,  and  punishing  the  slightest  presumption 
with  the  most  haughty  reserve. 

In  his  relation  of  planter,  as  the  master  of  extensive  pos- 
sessions, the  care  of* which  demanded  a  certain  degree  of 
activity,  in  the  midst  of  an  uncultivated  neighbourhood,  from 
which  his  refinement  and  higher  degree  of  cultivation  shone 
out  brightly,  and  where  he  was  often  called  upon  for  advice 
and  active  aid,  in  his  zeal  for  the  arming  of  the  country,  and 
finally  as  the  enlightened  son  of  a  passionately  bigoted  mother, 
whose  weaknesses  he  bore  with  patience  and  a  filial  reverence 
which,  in  this  country  where  youth  has  the  dominion,  he  could 
only  have  learned  from  his  own  nature  rather  than  from  the 
example  of  his  countrymen — in  these  capacities  he  had  been 
far  more  agreeable  and  estimable  to  Clotilde  than  in  his  city 
life  at  his  uncle's  house.  Here  he  spent  his  time  in  railing 
with  the  latter  at  the  Abolitionists,  and  discussing  the  tariff- 
question  in  a  one-sided,  provincial  spirit ;  in  betting  with  other 
young  planters,  who,  like  him,  were  spending  a  few  idle  winter 
months  in  the  city,  on  the  merits  of  horses  and  dogs  ;  or  in 
serving  Virginia,  now  as  page,  now  as  the  instrument  of  a 
general  love  of  admiration. 

The  business  which  caused  the  absence  of  aunt  Gardiner, 
whom  Clotilde  often  heard  spoken  of,  occupied  a  long  time. 
It  consisted  in  the  sale  of  a  number  of  slaves,  whom  she  had 
inherited  from  her  husband,  who  had  been  a  minister  in  South 
Carolina,  and  the  ownership  of  which  was  made  a  reproach  to 
her  by  not  a  few  of  her  pious  friends  in  Massachusetts.  Clo- 
tilde, indeed,  could  still  less  unite  the  safe  of  them  with  a  truly 
fi 


122  THE   EXILES. 

Christian  disposition,  bat  she  had  been  in  this  land  of  liberty 
long  enough  to  have  found  that  a  foreigner  cannot  express  his 
abhorrence  against  the  slavery  of  the  Southern  States,  and 
his  disapprobation  of  the  lukewarmness  of  the  Northern, 
without  sorely  wounding  the  national  feeling  of  the  Americans, 
and  drawing  upon  himself  the  reproach  of  arrogantly  meddling 
with  their  domestic  affairs.  When  travelling  with  Alonzo, 
she  had  heard  conversations  on  the  steamboat,  in  which  minis- 
ters of  Christ  defended  slavery  on  grounds  from  the  Bible  ; 
she  was  a  daily  witness  of  the  indignation  with  which  the  two 
Castletons,  uncle  and  nephew,  as  representatives  of  the  entire 
race  of  planters,  received  the  attempts  of  the  Abolitionists  to 
shake  the  ancient  institution  of  slavery  ;  but  what  struck  her 
most  painfully  were  the  frequent  disputes  of  the  two  sisters  on 
this  subject,  in  which  the  Christian  stood  up  in  its  defence, 
while  the  child  of  the  world,  with  generous  heart,  seemed  to 
recognise  its  whole  enormity  and  ungodliness. 

Not  that  Sarah  went  as  far  as  her  father,  and  agreed  with 
him  in  looking  upon  the  slavery  of  the  despised  race  as  one 
of  the  most  efficient  means  of  educating  the  privileged  white 
man  for  freedom.  On  the  contrary,  she  acknowledged  it,  with 
a  deep  sigh,  to  be  a  great  evil,  a  yoke  put  upon  the  sinful 
white  race  for  the  transgression  of  the  fathers,  which  the 
children  must  bear  with  submission.  But  she  could  not  con- 
sider it  wrong,  because  the  Lord  had  taken  this  means  of 
leading  the  benighted  people  of  Africa  to  the  Gospel,  and  she 
looked  upon  it  as  one  of  the  first  duties  of  a  Christian  slave- 
holder to  win  over  to  this  cause  the  souls  intrusted  to  his  care. 
She  was  therefore,  too,  a  strong  advocate  of  the  colonization 
system,  and  it  was  one  of  her  favourite  ideas,  which  she  gave 
way  to  more  than  might  have  been  expected  from  her  other- 
wise so  practical  nature,  that  from  Liberia  the  apostles  of  the 
Lord  might  some  day  spread  over  the  whole  of  Africa. 

"  If  there  were  only  not  so  much  still  to  be  done  at  home!" 
said  Virginia.  "  It  is  here  that  missionaries  are  wanted.  And 


THE    SISTEUS.  123 

for  the  rich  people,  particularly.  Think  yourself,  Sarah,  how 
much  vice  there  is  here  in  our  immediate  neighbourhood  ;  and 
even  in  our  nearest  acquaintance.  Just  think  of  Mr.  Marlow, 
who  has  become  so  immensely  rich  in  two  years  by  his  notori- 
ous dishonesty  as  a  lawyer  ;  of  Mrs.  Xorman,  who  nearly  lets 
her  own  relations  starve  ;  of " 

"Virginia,"  her  sister's  gentle  voice  interrupted  her,  "  'judge 
not,  that  ye  be  not  judged  !'  Mention  no  names,  sister  !  Who 
can  say :  '  I  have  made  my  heart  clean,  I  am  pure  from  my  sin  ?' " 

"  Very  well  ;  but  as  long  as  we  have  still  so  much  to 
educate  in  ourselves,  we  should  not  trouble  ourselves  too  much 
about  others.  That's  what  the  Lord  means  with  the  mote  in 
our  neighboui''s  eye  and  the  beam  in  our  own  ;  don't  be 
offended,  sister,  that  I  dabble  in  your  trade,  but  as  long  as 
we  sell  human  beings  like  beasts,  only  because  they  are  black, 
I  think  we  want  missionaries  just  as  much,  to  explain  the 
Gospel  to  us  correctly,  as  the  nations  of  Africa,  who  do  not 
know  it  at  all  yet." 

"Certainly,  sister,"  replied  Sarah  meekly,  "it  is  sinful  to 
sell  human  beings  like  beasts,  but  you  know  that  not  only 
beasts  are  sold,  but  also  vessels  of  gold  and  silver,  and  pre- 
cious stones." 

"  True,  to  make  money  ;  that's  the  Yankee  blood  in  her, 
Clotildc  !  I  don't  doubt  that  your  aunt  Gardiner  wishes 
just  now  that  some  of  her  people  were  cast  in  gold  and  silver, 
and  set  with  precious  stones." 

"Aunt  Gardiner,"  rejoined  Sarah,  not  without  some  embar- 
rassment, "will  doubtless  take  care  that  her  people  go  to 
another  Christian  master,  who,  here  in  their  immediate  vicinity, 
can  do  much  more  for  the  good  of  their  souls  than  she,  far 
off  in  Massachusetts." 

"  Could  she  not  set  them  free  ?"  inquired  Clotilde. 

"  Our  laws  forbid  the  liberation  of  slaves  who  remain  in 
the  country,"  was  Sarah's  answer. 

"  Could  not  she  take  them  to  Massachusetts,  and  set  them 


124  THE    EXILES. 

free  there,"  asked  Virginia,  "or  if  she  is  not  rich  enough  for 
such  generosity,  let  them  work  out  their  freedom  ?" 

"  Sister,"  said  Sarah,  "  we  are  not  the  judges  of  others' 
actions.  Even  in  slavery  there  is  a  Christian  freedom.  Mas- 
ter and  slave  are  brothers  in  the  Lord." 

"  Pretty  much  like  step-brothers,  though,"  replied  Virginia, 
sarcastically.  "  I  confess,  too,  that  I  should  hardly  like  to 
have  our  coachman,  Scipio,  or  our  laundress,  one-eyed  Diana, 
for  brother  and  sister.  Have  you  ever  seen  them,  Clotilde  ? 
Perfect  frights  !  Teeth  like  a  rhinoceros,  and  a  mouth  reach- 
ing from  ear  to  ear  !  But  all  their  ugliness  does  not  lower 
them  before  God,  and  not  only  their  souls,  but  their  bodies 
too,  are  as  precious  in  His  sight  as  ours,  and  it  is  wicked  to 
keep  them  in  bonds." 

"  If  slavery  were  not  as  well  an  ordinance  established  by 
God,  as  all  other  difference  of  station  among  men,"  answered 
Sarah,  "  why  should  not  our  Saviour  have  instructed  us  upon 
it?" 

"  Does  not  the  spirit  of  His  teachings  speak  plainly 
enough  ?" 

"  Why  should  Paul  have  sent  back  the  fugitive  Onesimus 
to  Philemon,  if  he  had  not  looked  upon  the  latter  as  his  right- 
ful owner  ?" 

"  You  know  as  well  as  I,  that  this  epistle  can  be  differently 
understood,  and  that  it  has  by  no  means  been  proved  that 
Onesimus  was  a  bought  slave.  But  we  will  not  quarrel  about 
that.  I  tell  you,  Sarah,"  continued  Virginia  with  vehemence, 
"  it  is  wicked  and  foolish  to  quote  the  Bible  in  favour  of 
slavery.  The  Gospel  is  meant  to  be  our  guide  in  moral  and 
religious  things,  but  nothing  at  all  comes  of  making  it  a  com- 
pendium of  civil  and  political  laws.  Our  own  republican 
freedom  would  fall  into  ruin  by  that" 

"  There  I  hear  your  free-thinking  German  friend  speaking 
from  you  again,"  replied  Sarah,  with  a  sigh.  "  I  wish  you 
had  never  seen  him  1" 


THE    SISTERS.  125 

"A  very  unkind  wish  !  For  it  seems  to  me  as  if  I  had  only 
begun  to  live  since  I  have  seen  him.  I  confess  that  since  I 
have  plunged  into  the  depths  of  his  conversation,  all  other 
reasoning  appears  shallow  to  me.  Yes,  I  do  not  deny  it,  he 
has  convinced  me  fully  of  the  fearful  wrong  which  we  do  when 
we  keep  our  fellow-beings  in  bonds.  Not  that  I  would  go 
quite  as  far  as  he,"  she  continued  with  more  moderation,  "  and 
desire  them  all  to  be  set  free  at  once — that  would  be  a  misfor- 
tune to  themselves,  for  they  would  not  know  what  to  do,  and 
where  should  we  get  other  servants  from  so  soon  ?  It  would 
cause  a  terrible  confusion.  I  have  tried  to  convince  Berghedorf 
of  that.  But  I  want  Legislature  to  appoint  a  time  from  which 
all  that  are  born  of  parents  that  are  slaves,  shall  be  free.  And 
it  must  come  to  this  !  Unfortunately  father  can't  be  talked  to 
on  that  subject.  But  Alonzo  has  had  to  hear  it  often  enough. 
I  am  firmly  resolved  never  to  give  my  hand  to  a  man  who  will 
not  promise  me  to  give  all  his  slaves  their  freedom — after  a 
certain  time,  at  least — after  his  death  or  so." 

Virginia  looked  beautiful  when  she  spoke  so  eagerly,  when 
a  fire  so  pure  sparkled  in  her  eyes.  Clotilde  saw,  to  be  sure, 
that  the  ideas  of  liberty  and  equality  of  human  rights,  were 
yet  more  familiar  to  her  in  theory  than  in  practice.  In  her 
daily  life,  she  never  thought  of  looking  upon  her  slaves  as  any- 
thing but  the  means  of  her  own  convenience.  She  had  no  scru- 
pies  in  keeping  her  coachman_and  horses  waiting  in  the  worst 
weather,  if  she  felt  like  staying  a  while  longer  at  a  party,  and 
declared,  when  Sarah  remonstrated  with  her  upon  her  doing 
so,  "  that  such  creatures  were  accustomed  to  that."  The 
laundress  had  a  hard  time  if  she  tore  her  laces  in  ironing,  and 
Phyllis,  spoiled,  indulged  Phyllis,  who  could  take  far  greater 
liberties  than  Clotilde  would  ever  have  suifered  from  a  ser- 
vant, who  had  the  entire  control  of  her  mistress'  wardrobe, 
and  often  appropriated  articles  from  it  which  the  latter  had 
not  thought  of  laying  aside,  by  persuading  her  that  they  were 
no  more  good  enough  for  her — even  she,  with  all  the  rich  pres- 


126  THE    EXILES. 

ents  and  familiar  words  which  were  bestowed  upon  her,  had 
from  time  to  time,  to  take  a  few  boxes  on  the  ear  into  the 
bargain.  But  Clotilde  could  easily  explain  and  excuse  this 
inconsistency,  by  the  early  habit  of  an  unbounded  command, 
which  cannot  but  grow  into  a  second  nature  by  degrees,  and 
therefore  rejoiced  all  the  more  that  her  countryman  had  sown 
a  nobler  seed  in  Virginia's  heart,  from  which  she  hoped  to  see 
spring  up,  one  day,  the  freedom  of  the  unfortunate  beings 
whom  God  had  placed  in  her  hands. 

Clotilde  had,  with  difficulty,  induced  the  sisters  to  let  her 
retire  when  there  was  company.  Virginia  understood  her  al- 
most better  than  Sarah  on  this  point.  She  felt  that  Clotilde, 
with  the  man  she  loved,  had  lost  all,  and  only  concluded 
within  herself,  when  she  saw  her  outward  dignity  and  calm- 
ness, that  Clotilde's  love  could  not  have  been  half  so  strong  as 
her  own.  But  Sarah,  while  she  praised  her  for  shunning  all 
intercourse  with  the  worldly-minded,  would  have  wished  her 
not  entirely  to  withdraw  herself  from  the  visits  of  her  friends, 
and  had  no  doubt  that  an  exchange  of  their  respective  Chris- 
tian experiences,  would  have  a  beneficial  effect  on  the  mourner. 
But  Clotilde's  entreaties  finally  conquered  her  too. 

Clotilde  therefore  spent  the  greater  part  of  her  days  alone. 
She  saw  the  family  only  at  meals,  or  the  young  ladies  during 
their  lessons.  In  the  evening,  when  all  the  others  were  out, 
she  would  play  on  the  piano,  and  sometimes  sing,  when  she  felt 
strong  enough.  The  rest  of  her  time  was  spent  in  reading,  in 
perfecting  herself  in  the  English  language,  in  making  little 
fancy  articles  of  dress  for  Virginia,  or  seeking  occupation  here 
and  there.  Before  breakfast  she  would  take  a  short  lonely 
walk,  to  breathe  the  air.  Or  she  would  drive  out  with  Vir- 
ginia in  the  afternoon.  Forming  acquaintances  she  carefully 
avoided.  On  Sundays  it  was  a  matter  of  some  jealousy  be- 
tween the  two  sisters,  whether  Clotilde  should  go  with  Vir- 
ginia to  the  Episcopal,  or  with  Sarah  to  the  Presbyterian 
church.  Hence,  she  preferred  to  go  to  her  own  church,  the 


THE   SISTERS.  127 

German  Lutheran,  although  she  was  uot  at  all  pleased  by  the 
want  of  German  spirit  in  the  Lutheranism  of  the  colonists  of 
Charleston. 

Thus  months  went  by.  After  Clotilde  had — not  consoled 
herself — no,  she  was  far  from  being  consoled,  for  the  loss  of 
her  betrothed  husband,  but  had  quieted  herself,  her  Past  had, 
by  degrees,  grown  dear  to  her  again.  She  longed  to  hear  from 
her  friends.  She  could  not  conceive  why  the  Baron  did  not 
answer  her  letter,  which  must  have  reached  him  long  ago.  Am 
indescribable  feeling  of  loneliness,  of  desolation,  weighed  upon 
her.  It  often  seemed  to  her  as  if  she  were  more  alone  here, 
among  these  persons  who  were  so  good  and  kind,  but  so  for- 
eign to  her  inmost  nature,  than  on  Alouzo's  isolated  plantation 
in  the  desolate  wilderness. 

When  Sarah  entered  her  room  at  night,  she  often  found 
her  in  tears.  She  pitied  her,  partly  because  she  had  lost  so 
much,  partly  because  she  was  convinced  that  Clotilde  mistook 
the  right  means  of  consolation.  "You  are  weeping  again, 
poor  Clotilde  ?"  she  would  ask.  "  Yes,  you  may  weep  J  We 
are  permitted  to  weep  ;  for  our  Lord  and  Saviour  wept  for 
his  departed  friend.  But,"  she  added,  gently  taking  her  hand, 
"are  you  sure  your  tears  are  not  selfish  ?  You  think  only  of 
your  loss  ;  will  you  not  think  also  of  his  gain  ?  Would  you 
wish  him  back  again,  if  it  were  in  your  power  !" 

"  Would  I  ?— What  a  question,  Sarah  !" 

"  Would  you  wish  to  call  him  back  from  the  mansions  of 
eternal  happiness,  to  this  world  of  trial  and  sorrow  ?  I  take 
it  for  granted  that  your  friend  was  a  Christian,  else  how  could 
you  have  loved  him  thus,  or  intrusted  your  life's  happiness  to 
his  keeping  ?" 

"  Sarah,"  said  Clotilde,  colouring  deeply,  "  he  stands 
before  his  Judge.  It  is  to  Him  alone  that  he  need  render 
up  an  account  of  his  belief,  of  his  delusions,  and  his  errors. 
I  have  faith  in  His  inexhaustible  kindness,  that  He  has 
been  a  merciful  judge  to  him,  as  He  will  be  to  me." 


128  THE   EXILES. 

"  And  will  you  not  joyfully  resign  the  still  rough  diamond 
to  the  goldsmith,  who,  with  cunning  hand,  will  give  it  its 
true  brilliancy  wherever  it  is  necessary,  by  cutting  and  polish- 
ing ?  How  gloriously  then  will  it  shine  upon  you,  when 
your  Father's  summons  calls  you  too  before  His  throne  !" 

"  Sarah,  do  you  not  wish  that  God  had  let  your  mother 
live  ?" 

"  If  it  had  been  His  will,"  replied  Sarah,  looking  at  her 
gravely,  with  perfectly  clear  eyes,  "  He  would  have  done 
so.  But  as  His  will  called  her  to  him,  it  would  be  presump- 
tion to  wish  her  back  among  these  scenes  of  sorrow  and 
struggles." 

"  And  so  we  may  not  wish  for  anything  ?  All  our  feel- 
ings of  love,  of  longing,  of  desire,  are  given  to  us  for 
nothing  ?" 

"  Indeed  we  may  wish ;  yes,  we  ought  to  wish  and  pray, 
and,  daily  beseech  of  the  Lord  His  gifts  and  blessings,  after 
our  own  limited  human  judgment.  But  when  He  has  spoken 
so  plainly  to  any  one,  as  to  you  and  me,  we  should  bow  to  His 
will,  and  harbour  no  more  rebellious  wishes.  Have  we  not 
the  example  of  David,  the  faithful  servant  of  the  Lord  ? 
When  his  child  lay  sick  unto  death,  he  fasted,  and  lay  in  the 
dust  before  the  Lord,  and  besought  Him  for  the  child.  But 
when  God  took  the  child  unto  Him,  notwithstanding  his 
grief  and  supplications,  David  arose  from  the  earth,  and 
washed  and  anointed  himself,  and  changed  his  apparel,  and 
went  into  the  house  of  the  Lord  and  worshipped,  and  when 
he  came  again  to  his  own  house,  he  had  meat  set  before  him, 
and  did  eat.  And  when  the  servants  were  astonished,  he 
said  :  '  While  the  child  was  yet  alive,  I  fasted  and  wept,  for 
I  said  who  can  tell  whether  the  Lord  will  be  gracious  to  me, 
that  the  child  may  live  ?  But  now  he  is  dead,  wherefore 
should  I  fast  ?  Can  I  bring  him  back  again  ?  I  shall  go  to 
him,  but  he  shall  not  return  unto  me.'  " 

Clotilde  had  listened  to  her  with  strangely  mixed  feelings. 


THE   SISTERS.  129 

She  hardly  knew  whether  the  methodical,  cold,  and  yet  so  in- 
dubitably real  piety  of  this  young  girl  filled  her  most  with 
admiration  or  astonishment.  Only  one  thing  she  felt  dis- 
tinctly, that  this  mode  of  worship  would  never  be  familiar  to 
her. 

"  Our  views  on  this  point,"  she  said,  after  a  while,  "will 
hardly  ever  be  the  same,  dear  Sarah,  therefore  our  talking 
about  it  is  to  little  purpose.  It  is  enough  that  we  both,  each 
in  her  own  way,  are  seeking  to  obtain  the  peace  of  God.  I 
too,  Sarah,  have  succeeded,  after  many  severe  struggles,  in 
gathering  all  my  feelings  into  that  one,  single  prayer,  '  Lord, 
Thy  will  be  done  !'  But  this  does  not  prevent  me  from  feel- 
ing that  the  grief  too  which  He  sent  me,  is  of  divine  origin, 
and  that  He  gave  me  this  faculty  of  suffering  and  loving. 
It  was  His  will  that  I  should  mourn.  You  say  that  we  may 
weep,  for  Jesus  wept.  No,  Sarah,  not  therefore  !  Do  you 
need  a  commandment,  a  law,  a  Bible  authority,  for  every 
human  emotion,  for  the  satisfaction  of  every  human  desire  ? 
Do  you  mean  that  if  an  unfortunate  accident  had  torn  these 
words  from  the  sacred  laws  of  the  Gospel,  the  human  race 
should  be  deprived  of  the  precious  privilege  of  giving  vent  to 
its  sorrow  for  the  departed  in  tears  ?  No*,  it  is  not  because 
Jesus  once  wept  at  the  death  of  a  beloved  friend,  that  we  are 
permitted  to  weep  for  our  dead  ;  it  is  rather  that  He  wept  for 
him  because  His  divine  soul  was  no  stranger  to  anything  truly 
human,  to  nothing  that  was  in  accordance  with  nature.  You 
say,  my  dear  Sarah,  that  we  must  wish  nothing  that  is  not  the 
will  of  God.  Well  I  And  that  if  that  which  we  wish  comes 
to  pass,  it  is  God's  will,  because  nothing  can  happen  without 
His  will.  A  fact  decides  nothing,  nothing  at  all,  in  that  case. 
My  eyes  have  seen  the  waves  meet  over  that  dear  head — oh  ! 
may  I  not  still  wish  that  a  miracle,  one  of  the  many  thousand 
miracles  which  His  will  suffers  to  take  place  every  day,  may 
nevertheless  have  saved  him  ?  And  must  such  a  wish  be 
sinful,  until  Hubert  suddenly  stood  living  before  me,  and  it 
fi* 


130  THIS    EXILES. 

would  thus  become  obvious  that  it  was  indeed  God's  will  to 
save  him  ?" 

Sarah,  rather  confused  by  Clotilde's  sharper  logic,  and 
not  understanding  well  her  mode  of  feeling,  at  length  ceased 
of  her  own  accord  to  seek  such  conversations,  and  relied  upon 
the  powers  of  aunt  Gardiner,  who  was  expected  daily.  . 


NEW   ACQUAINTANCES.  131 


CHAPTER  X. 

NEW    ACQUAINTANCES. 

TTIRGIXIA,  too,  had  something  that  troubled  her,  that 
•  secretly  wore  upon  her.  This  was  plainly  to  be  seen  in 
the  harshness  of  her  manner-,  in  her  irritation  at  trifles,  and 
particularly  In  her  ill-humour  towards  Alonzo,  who  generally 
had  to  suffer  for  the  faults  .of  the  others.  Clotilde  con- 
jectured truly,  that  it  was  uneasiness  at  Berghedorf  s  incom- 
prehensible silence  that  tormented  her.  Indeed,  Virginia, 
who  was  little  accustomed  to  put  the  least  restraint  upon 
her  feelings,  did  not  long  keep  back  the  matter. 

"  Why  does  he  not  come  ?"  she  cried.  "  Why  does  he 
not  write  ?  Can  it  be  that  he  does  not  love  me  any  more  ? 
Can  he  have  returned  to  his  country  ?  What  is  this  mystery 
that  is  around  him  ?  Why  is  he  not  sincere,  why  so  reserved 
towards  me  ?" 

Thus  one  question  chased  the  other,  without  Clotilde's 
being  able  to  answer  one  of  them.  But  she  recognised 
clearly  that  Virginia's  love  was  not,  as  she  had  at  first 
thought,  the  mere  play  of  a  fancy  heated  by  romance,  but 
that  her  heart  was  filled  with  a  burning,  unbridled,  powerful 
passion.  Her  uneasiness  and  longing  soon  increased  to  a 
morbid  irritability,  which  made  her  insupportable  to  the 
other  members  of  the  household  ;  but  in  the  social  circles 
which  she  continually  sought,  the  charm  of  her  appearance 
seemed  heightened  by  a  certain  exaltation  in  her  eye,  and 
while  her  heart  was  famishing,  her  vanity  sought  and  found 
ample  food. 


13\J  THE   EXILES. 

Clotildc  tried  in  vain  to  influence  her  reason.  "  From  the 
very  fact  of  Berghedorf's  staying  away,"  she  said,  "  I  would 
conclude  that  he  is  an  honourable  man.  He  is  poor,  without 
prospects, — a  foreigner.  How  could  he  hope  to  obtain 
you  ?" 

"  I  am  rich  enough  for  us  both,"  replied  Virginia.  "  In 
this  free  country  every  one  who  has  merit  has  prospects. 
His  mind  will  soon  open  a  career  to  him." 

"  Perhaps  he  doubts  whether  your  father  would  think 
so." 

"  What  does  my  father's  mode  of  thinking  concern  him, 
when  he  is  certain  of  mine  ?  I'  have  not  concealed  from  him 
that  I  have  an  independent  fortune." 

"  You  would  not  enter  into  any  connection  without  your 
father's  consent,  Virginia?" 

"  Why  not,  when  my  father  will  not  see  my  true  happi- 
ness ?" 

"You  could  not  enjoy  true  happiness  without  your  father's 


"  I  see  you  still  have  your  slavish  European  views  of  this 
matter,  which  make  children  subject  to  their  parents  even 
after  they  are  of  age.  I  certainly  love  and  honour  my 
father,  but  in  my  marriage  he  must  not  meddle,  for  in  that 
the  question  is  my  happiness,  not  his.  And  least  of  all 
shall  I  make  up  my  mind  now  to  marry  cousin  Alonzo ;  I 
don't  want  a  man  who  will  let  me  do  anything  with  him!" 

"  Your  cousin  is  enough  of  a  man  otherwise,  my  dear 
Virginia.  His  submission  to  your  caprices,  which  I  am 
myself  far  from  approving  of,  you  must  ascribe  to  his 
unbounded  affection.  If  you  are  resolved  not  to  accept  it, 
you  should  not  nourish  it,  but  try  to  suppress  it." 

Virginia  laughed  rather  scornfully.  "I  do  neither  the 
one  nor  the  other;  it  would  be  too  much  trouble.  His 
heart  has  always  been  his  own,  let  him  dispose  of  it  as  he 
will !» 


NEW   ACQUAINTANCES.  133 

But  it  was  only  of  others'  love  that  she  spoke  so  lightly. 
Her  own  seemed  to  her  the  most  important  thing  in  the 
world,  and  as  she  found  as  little  sympathy  for  it  with  Clo- 
tilde  as  with  Sarah,  and  Phyllis  shocked  her  by  some  flat, 
vulgar  observations,  when  once,  in  a  momentary  overflowing 
of  her  heart,  she  hinted  at  it  to  her,  she  again  took  refuge 
with  her  mother's  image,  and  her  heart  felt  lighter  when, 
kneeling  before  the  bust,  she  had  wept  out  her  grief. 

Meanwhile,  too,  Mrs.  Gardiner  had  returned.  Clotilde, 
who,  from  all  that  she  had  heard  about  her,  had  formed  an 
idea  of  her  in  her  mind  which  was  not  altogether  favourable, 
was  almost  afraid  to  meet  her  for  the  first  time,  for  she 
carefully  avoided  all  contact  with  her  deep  wound,  which, 
with  all  her  constant  secret  grief,  resignation  and  reason 
enabled  her  to  carry  bound  up  in  her  heart,  but  which  the 
slightest  touch  caused  to  bleed  incessantly. 

But  Mrs.  Gardiner,  a  lady  of  benevolent  disposition  and 
dignified  deportment,  a  tall,  bony  figure  with  pointed  nose 
and  sharp  gray  eyes,  had  far  too  much  of  the  national 
reserve  of  New-England  women,  to  meet  her  with  anything 
more  than  the  common  questions  after  her  health,  how  long 
she  had  been  in  America,  how  she  liked  America,  and  if  the 
German  language  was  harder  to  learn  than  the  English. 
She  mentioned  only  cursorily,  that  she  had  heard  what  a 
heavy  trial  had  been  imposed  upon  her,  but  hoped  God  had 
been  so  merciful  as  to  sanctify  it  to  her.  She  considerately 
put  off  catechizing  her  upon  her  religious  opinions  till  an- 
other time. 

Mrs.  Gardiner  was  the  great-granddaughter  of  the  cele- 
brated Dr.  Cotton  Mather  ;  and  related  besides  to  several 
other  learned  divines,  upon  whom  her  country  looked  with 
pride.  The  spirit  of  her  great-grandfather  and  of  her 
great-great-grandfather  was  with  her,  and  she  knew  of  no 
higher  compliment  than  to  be  told  that  she  bore  a  resem- 
blance to  their  portraits,  which  had  been  preserved.  She 


134  THE   EXILES. 

was,  moreover,  the  widow  of  an  eminent  clergyman  ;  of  her 
sons  and  sons-in-law,  some  occupied  pulpits  in  the  first 
churches,  some  were  professors  in  theological  institutions. 
All  this  aided  not  a  little  in  giving  influence  and  dignity  to 
her  own  strict  piety.  Her  daughters-in-law,  in  particular, 
she  frequently  admonished  to  a  right  training  of  their  chil- 
dren, and  they,  as  well  as  her  daughters,  had  to  bring  their 
little  ones,  as  soon  as  they  were  six  months  old,  to  family- 
prayers,  and  keep  them  quiet — in  which,  however,  they  did 
not  always  succeed  —  so  as  to  accustom  them  betimes  to 
this  holy  act.  When  the  babies  made  their  first  attempts 
at  independent  motion,  she  was  particularly  shocked  at  the 
rolling  and  kicking  about  on  the  floor  by  which  the  small 
naturals  amused  themselves,  and  would  severely  reprove  the 
nurses,  if  the  little  ones  belonged  to  the  weaker  sex,  for 
allowing  such  improprieties,  and  thus  killing  so  early  the 
germ  of  that  modesty  and  chastity  which  the  Apostle  pro- 
nounces indispensable  in  a  woman. 

When,  on  the  first  evening,  the  Castleton  family  sat  down 
to  tea,  Mrs.  Gardiner,  with  a  dignity  peculiar  to  her,  imme- 
diately diverted  the  conversation  from  the  common  subjects 
of  the  day,  and  asked  Clotilde,  without  the  slightest  intro- 
duction, "  Whether  she  believed  that  the  prophecies  of 
Isaiah  would  be  so  far  fulfilled  that  the  Jews  would  ever  be 
restored  to  Jerusalem  ?" 

This  was  her  favourite  subject,  and  no  one  who  was  intro- 
duced to  her  could  hope  to  escape  this  question — Clotilde 
even  less  than  many  others,  because  Mrs.  Gardiner  expected 
from  her,  as  a  German,  a  certain  degree  of  learning.  When 
she  answered,  with  some  embarrassment,  that  she  had  never 
thought  upon  this  subject,  aunt  Gardiner  put  the  same 
question  to  Alonzo.  But  this  threw  Virginia  into  such  a 
fit  of  laughter,  that  he  was  spared  an  answer,  and  the  thing 
ended  in  a  joke,  without  creating  the  slightest  irritation  in 


NEW   ACQUAINTANCES.  135 

Mrs.  Gardiner,  as,  indeed,  she  only  very  rarely  manifested 
any  vexation  at  any  rebuff  or  shaking-off. 

"  What  do  you  think,  Miss  Osten,"  she  commenced  anew, 
"  was  the  first  language  spoken  in  the  world  ?  Don't  you 
believe  Adam  and  Eve  spoke  Hebrew  ?  Or  do  you  think 
the  Assyrian  or  the  Chaldee  are  older  ?  I  am  anxious  to 
hear  your  opinion  on  this  point." 

"  I  have  no  opinion  about  it,  Mrs.  Gardiner,"  replied 
Clotilde,  smiling  ;  "  we  German  women  leave  such  learned 
investigations  to  our  philologists." 

"  What  was  your  father's  view  of  it  ?  Did  you  not  tell 
me  that  he  was  Professor  of  History  ?" 

"That  is  true." 

"Well,  what  did  he  teach  his  pupils  upon  this  point?  I 
hope  he  founded  his  instructions  on  the  Bible.  Was  your 
father  a  Christian  ?" 

"  As  far  as  I  know,  no  one  ever  doubted  it." 

"  Excuse  me,  Miss  Osten,  I  did  not  mean  to  hurt  your 
feelings.  But,  unfortunately,  there  are  so  many  infidels  and 
atheists  among  the  learned  men  of  Germany.  Even  among 
the  most  pious  Germans  certain  dangerous  errors  are  quite 
common.  It  was  only  the  other  day  that  one  of  our  divines 
informed  us  that  even  the  celebrated  Tholuck,  pious  as  he  is, 
must,  in  a  certain  sense,  be  called  a  Universalist.  This  state 
of  things  grieves  me  all  the  more,  as  the  German  was  the 
first  language  in  which  the  abominations  of  Romanism  were 
checked,  and  in  which  there  was  the  first  preaching  against 
the  Antichrist." 

Here  the  family  rose  from  the  tea-table,  and  Clotilde 
slipped  from  the  parlour  and  went  to  her  room.  Mrs.  Gar- 
diner feared  that  she  had  frightened  her  away  by  her  learned 
conversation,  and  consequently  began,  the  next  morning  at 
breakfast,  to  talk  of  domestic  affairs. 

"  Have  you  good  servants  in  Germany,  Miss  Osten  ?" 
she  asked.  "  New  England  is  the  most  favoured  land  in 


136  THE   EXILES. 

the  world,  the  seat  of  true  enlightenment  and  liberty,  and  our 
Saviour  has  more  followers  there  than  in  many  countries  of 
ten  times  its  population.  It  is  decidedly  the  land  of  the 
Lord's  elect  ;  we  need  only  remember  its  origin,  and  our 
Pilgrim  Fathers.  But  in  regard  to  the  difficulty  of  obtain- 
ing help,  there  is  much  cause  for  complaint !  Our  young 
women  are  too  proud  ;  they  had  all  rather  go  to  the  factories, 
because  they  think  that  is  more  ladylike.  And  the  Irish 
are  so  raw  !  And  who  would  like  to  have  Catholics  in  the 
house  ?  Poor,  benighted  people  !  I  hear  there  are  many 
good  German  girls.  Is  it  so,  Miss  Osten  ?" 

"  There  are  good  ones  and  bad  ones,  but  mostly  indiffer- 
ent ones." 

"  What  method  did  your  mother  pursue,  when  she  wanted  a 
girl  ?  Or  you,  yourself,  when  you  kept  house  for  your  father  ?" 

"  We  hired  them,"  said  Clotilde,  smiling. 

"  Of  course,"  replied  Mrs.  Gardiner;  "  but  I  mean,  to  get 
a  very  good,  useful  one.  Did  you  ever  pray  for  a  very  good 
servant  girl,  Miss  Osten  ?" 

Clotilde  was  for  a  moment  quite  taken  aback.  Then, 
laughing  for  the  first  time  in  many  months,  she  replied  :  ' '  No 
indeed,  I  would  not  have  dared  to  importune  God  with  such 
matters." 

"  I  agree  with  you,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Gardiner,  "  we  should 
leave  these  details  to  His  divine  will.  And  experience  has 
taught  nre  that  such  improper  prayers  are  granted  only  to 
the  disadvantage  of  the  suppliant.  One  of  my  neighbours 
nlways  had  a  great  deal  of  trouble  with  her  help,  and  once, 
when  she  was  left  without  any,  she  prayed  for  an  excellent 
girl.  And  lo  and  behold,  already  the  next  morning  the 
Lord  sent  her  an  uncommonly  able  girl  from  New  Hamp- 
shire, who  had  come  into  our  neighbourhood  with  a  married, 
sister,  and  wanted  to  earn  a  few  dollars  before  going  home. 
For  her  parents  were  poor,  and  she  hadn't  yet  been  able  to 
afford  a  silk  dress  for  the  Sabbath.  This  girl,  now,  was  a  real 


NEW   ACQUAINTANCES.  137 

blessing  in  the  house,  and  though  Mrs.  Weller,  ray  neighbour, 
only  gave  her  a  dollar  and  a  quarter  a  week,  she  did  all  her 
work  for  her.  She  cooked,  baked  excellent  bread,  washed 
and  ironed,  helped  wash  and  dress  the  children,  and  took  two 
of  them  to  church  with  her,  for  Mrs.  Weller  had  four  children, 
the  oldest  not  yet  eight  years  old.  Only  the  beds  Mrs.  Wel- 
ler had  to  make  herself,  but  with  the  sweeping  and  scrubbing 
the  girl  always  helped  her,  whenever  she  had  time.  And  so 
poor  Mrs.  Weller  got  so  spoiled,  that  when  she  lost  the  girl, 
she  couldn't  get  along  at  all,  and  felt  quite  miserable,  and 
thus  it  proved  that  foolish  prayers  are  heard  only  for  our 
harm." 

"  How  did  she  lose  the  girl,  Mrs.  Gardiner,  I  can't  remem- 
ber ?"  asked  Virginia,  with  a  sly  expression  of  the  eye. 

"  The  girl,"  replied  Mrs.  Gardiner,  and  a  hardly  perceptible 
shade  of  embarrassment  in  her  face  was  not  lost  upon  Clotilde, 
"preferred  to  live  with  me  and  do  my  work,  as  I  could  not 
find  any  one  else  just  at  that  time.  And  I  gave  her  a  quarter 
of  a  dollar  more." 

"  How  was  that,  Mrs.  Gardiner,"  continued  Virginia,  look- 
ing as  innocent  as  possible,  "  didn't  you  go  to  Mrs.  Weller's 
kitchen  one  day,'  when  she  had  gone  to  Boston,  and  offer  the 
excellent  girl  a  quarter  more  if  she  would  come  and  live  with 
you  ?" 

"  Xo,  indeed,  Miss  Castleton,  that  would  have  Jbeen  very 
unladylike.  I  met  her  in  the  street,  and  only  toM  her,  in. 
passing,  that  if  she  ever  left  Mrs.  Weller's  she  would  find  a 
good  situation  with  me  ;  and  that  I  gave  a  dollar  and  a  half, 
though  the  work  was  not  as  hard  with  me,  because  I  generally 
kept  two  girls.  We  have  duties  to  fulfil  towards  the  labour- 
ing class,  Miss  Castleton,  as  well  as  towards  ladies  of  higher 
.family.  To  let  a  girl  do  as  much  work  for  a  dollar  and  a 
quarter,  as  can  be  expected  for  a  dollar  and  a  half,  could 
hardly  be  approved  of  !" 

But  Virginia  seemed  hardly  to  be  listening  any  more,  for 


138  THE   EXILES. 

she  was  talking  to  her  neighbour  Alonzo,  in  a  very  audible 
whisper. 

"  I  fear,  cousin,"  she  said,  "  that  you  are  running  wild  en- 
tirely in  Florida,  and  forgetting  your  catechism.  You  were 
never  over-well  versed  in  the  Bible,  Alonzo.  Tell  me  now, 
what  is  the  tenth  commandment  ?" 

Alonzo  bit  his  lips  as  he  looked  at  her,  to  keep  from  laugh- 
ing. Then  he  began  with  feigned  simplicity  : — "  Thou  shalt 
not  covet  thy  neighbour's  house,  nor  his  wife,  nor  his  man- 
servant, nor  his  maid — " 

"  Enough  for  to-day,"  Virginia  interrupted  him,  rising. 
"  I  see  you  are  a  better  scholar  than  I  thought."  The  two 
Castletons  followed  her  from  the  room,  laughing.  Sarah  had 
long  since  cast  down  her  eyes  in  shame.  But  Mrs.  Gardiner, 
though  rather  red  in  the  face,  looked  as  unconcerned  as  if  she 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  whole  affair. 

Besides  the  question  about  the  restoration  of  the  Jews, 
Mrs.  Gardiner  had  another  favourite  subject,  upon  which  she 
liked  to  turn  the  conversation  and  gather  different  opinions. 
It  was  this  :  What  had  become  of  the  ten  lost  tribes  of  Israel  ? 
Mrs.  Weller,  with  whom  she  often  used  to  discuss  the  subject, 
adhered  firmly  to  the  old  view  that  they  are-  to  be  found  in 
the  North  American  Indians.  But  for  Mrs.  Gardiner,  who 
had  inherited  from  her  ancestor,  the  celebrated  Dr.  Cotton 
Mather,  an  unconquerable  repugnance  to  the  filthy,  stiff-necked 
race  of  Indians,  it  being,  as  it  were,  in  her  blood,  this  origin 
was  far  too  good  for  them,  and  although  she  did  not  acknowl- 
edge it,  she  was  inwardly  much  more  inclined  to  put  faith  in 
the  old  theory  which  Hubbard,  the  historian,  mentions  as  a 
possible  one,  namely,  that  this  brood  was  begotten  by  Satan 
himself,  during  his  banishment,  when  he  took  a  couple  of 
witches  with  him  for  company.  The  ten  lost  tribes  she  be- 
lieved, with  other  learned  persons,  to  have  been  discovered  in 
Persia,  among  the  Nestorians,  or  rather  among  the  ancient 
Chaldeans,  for  she  was  of  the  firm  opinion  that  these  two 


NEW   ACQUAINTANCES.  139 

nations  were  one  and  the  same,  and  conld  not  refrain  from 
some  doubts  of  the  Orthodoxy  of  those  scholars  who  rejected 
this  arbitrary  supposition. 

This  gave  occasion  for  many  a  vehement  dispute  between 
Mrs.  Gardiner  and  her  neighbour,  which,  however,  did  not 
trouble  their  intimacy  in  the  least.  But  there  was  another 
point  in  which  the  two  ladies  differed,  that  threatened  some- 
times to  have  more  serious  consequences.  It  was  the  question 
whether  the  Sabbath  commenced  on  Sunday  at  sunrise,  or  on 
Saturday  at  sunset. 

Mrs.  Weller,  who  was  born  in  Connecticut,  was  of  the 
latter  opinion.  The  house-work  of  the  week  had  to  be  finished 
before  the  sun  set  on  Saturday — which  it  was  often  hard 
enough  for  her  to  accomplish,  with  her  four  children  and  her 
want  of  help — the  faces  of  the  family  were  laid  in  sober  folds, 
and  it  was  the  duty  of  the  eldest  little  daughter  to  gather 
together  the  children's  toys,  that  they  might  be  locked  up  in 
the  cupboard  till  Monday  morning,  while  the  little  ones  stood 
around  with  awed  and  rueful  countenances,  and  even  "  the 
baby,"  two  years  old,  dared  not  murmur  when  its  rattle  was 
taken  from  its  little  hands,  and  a  picture-book,  with  beautiful 
Bible  stories,  promised  it.  But  to  make  up  for  this,  mother 
was  not  very  particular  on  Sunday  night.  After  sunset,  in 
summer,  the  children  might  run  about  in  the  garden  and  look 
at  the  flowers  ;  and  in  winter,  when  the  family  were  gathered 
around  the  crackling  fire — the  youngest  on  mother's  lap,  the 
next  on  father's  knee — they  might  even  listen  to  their  parents' 
stories  of  their  own  childhood,  and  interrupt  them  with  inno- 
cent chat  and  laughter. 

It  was  in  vain  that  Mrs.  Gardiner  tried  to  convince  the 
Wellers  of  their  error,  by  devoting  Saturday  evening,  as  the 
close  of  the  week,  to  the  most  noisy  portion  of  her  cleaning 
and  scrubbing,  and  regularly,  so  that  her  neighbour  might  by 
no  means  fail  to  notice  it  sending  in  to  borrow  a  tub  or  a 
brush,  or,  when  this  had  no  effect,  by  inviting  her  and  several 


140  THE   EXILES. 

other  friends  to  take  tea  with  her  on  Saturday  night.  And 
on  Sunday  evening  she  would  so  skilfully  break  in  upon  the 
family-scene,  by  suddenly  entering  the  room  bonneted  and 
cloaked,  to  get  Mrs.  Weller  to  go  to  church  with  her,  as  she 
said,  that  the  latter,  although  already  tired  from  going  to 
church  twice,  would,  in  her  embarrassment,  equip  herself  too, 
and  send  the  painfully  disappointed  little  ones  to  bed. 

In  the  life  and  mode  of  thinking  of  the  family  in  Charles- 
ton, Mrs.  Gardiner  naturally  found  much  to  shock  her.  When 
she  began  to  speak  of  the  restoration  of  the  Jews,  or  the  ten 
lost  tribes,  her  brother-in-law  would  take  up  the  paper,  Vir- 
ginia seat  herself  at  the  piano,  Clotilde  would  slip  from  the 
room,  and  even  Sarah,  though  she  listened  to  her  aunt  with 
all  due  respect,  could  not  easily  be  induced  to  give  an  answer, 
or  at  least  only  quoted  what  one  or  another  divine  thought 
about  it,  without  ever  expressing  an  opinion  of  her  own.  It 
happened  therefore  "very  opportunely  to  Mrs.  Gardiner,  that 
there  was  at  that  time  a  young  clergyman  from  New  England 
visiting  Charleston,  with  whom  she  was  intimately  acquainted, 
and  even,  as  was  Sarah  also,  distantly  related.  With  him  she 
could  converse  at  table  ;  for  her  presence,  his  cousinship  with 
Sarah,  and  Richard  Castleton's  generous  hospitality,  gave  him 
the  opportunity  of  being  a  frequent  guest  at  their  dinner-table 
during  his  stay  in  Charleston. 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Spooner — reverend  only  in  his  capacity 
of  clergyman,  for  he  had  hardly  reached  the  age  of  twenty- 
three — had  come  South  on  account  of  his  impaired  health,  in 
the  hope  that  the  climate  would  improve  it.  He  seemed  uot 
exactly  to  approve  of  Mrs.  Gardiner's  lecturing  propensity  ; 
for  however  great  the  respect  which  an  American  pays  to 
woman,  he  yet  holds,  on  the  whole,  to  the  "nn/lier  laceat  in 
ecdesia"  of  the  Apostle. — But  he  thought  it  his  duty  from 
time  to  time  to  give  the  Castleton  family  the  example  of  a 
godly  or  exegetical  conversation,  and  to  place  his  theological 
learning  in  the  best  light,  particularly  before  Sarah,  whom 


NEW   ACQUAINTANCES.  141 

he  thought  very  highly  of.  For  Mr.  Spooner  was  filled  with 
the  most  lively  sense  of  duty.  He  acted,  breathed,  studied, 
slept,  ate  and  drank,  because  it  was  his  duty.  He  wished 
.therefore  to  effect  the  restoration  of  his  health — for  it  was 
his  duty  to  preserve,  in  his  person,  the  servant  of  the  Lord — 
by  observing  the  severest  rules  of  dieting,  in  which  he  followed 
most  faithfully  the  prescriptions  of  his  New-England  physi- 
cian. With  marvellous  abstinence  he  suffered  the  daintiest 
dishes,  the  choicest  wines  on  Mr.  Castleton's  rich  and  loaded 
table,  to  pass  him  untasted,  and  asked  the  grinning  waiters 
for  rice  boiled  in  water,  with  molasses  to  pour  over  it,  of 
which  simple  food  he  devoured  immense  quantities,  while  he 
conversed  with  Mrs.  Gardiner  on  the  state  of  his  digestion, 
or  asked  Clotilde  whether  the  German  scholars  were  as  much 
troubled  with  dyspepsia  as  the  American  ones. 

Altogether,  Mr.  Spooner  thought  it  his  duty  to  improve 
every  opportunity  of  increasing  his  general  knowledge,  for 
which  purpose  he  always  had  a  whole  regiment  of  questions 
in  readiness,  that  he  marched  up  one  after  the  other.  Clotilde 
was  at  least  led  to  believe,  by  the  fact  that  the  next  question 
had  often  no  connection  with  the  answer  she  had  just  given, 
that  it  had  long  been  prepared,  and  only  now  sprang,  fully 
armed,  like  Minerva,  from  the  thought-laden  head  of  the 
questioner.  As  a  matter  of  course,  Mr.  Spooner  considered 
it  his  duty  not  to  leave  unemployed  the  presence  of  a  German 
Professor's  daughter,  whom  Providence,  as  if  to  satisfy  his 
thirst  for  knowledge,  had  thrown,  from  the  very  focus  of  Ger- 
man learning,  on  the  coast  of  America.  He  was  therefore 
insatiable  in  inquiries,  particularly  after  those  distinguished 
German  scholars  whose  works  he  had  studied,  and  whom  he 
admired  exceedingly  for  their  thorough  learning,  although 
the  rationalism  of  some  of  them  grieved  him  very  much.  He 
was  very  desirous  of  learning  from  Clotilde  what  were  the 
true  religious  opinions  of  Gesenius  and  Ewald  ?  Whether 
Neander  really  invited  company  on  Sunday  ?  How  many 


142  THE    EXILE'S. 

hours  a  German  scholar  studied  everyday?  Ho\v  runny 
he  spent  in  walking,  or  sawing  wood,  for  exercise  ?  And 
what,  as  he  had  heard  with  gratitude  to  the  Lord  that  the 
Gospel  Avas  spreading  more  and  more  in  Germany,  was  the 
average  annual  number  of  conversions  during  the  last  three 
years  ? 

It  was  in  vain  that  Clotilde  declared  her  inability  to  answer 
these  questions  ;  Mr.  Spoouer's  investigations  ended  only  with 
the  meal.  After  dinner  other  duties  awaited  him.  He  seated 
himself  very  comfortably  in  one  of  the  spacious  velvet  rocking- 
chairs,  and  began  rocking  with  all  his  might.  The  very  sight 
almost  made  Clotilde  dizzy.  Virginia,  casting  upon  him  one 
of  Her  peculiar  glances,  in  which  amusement,  disgust,  uud 
ridicule  intermingled  in  an  indescribable  manner,  asked  : 

"  You  seem  to  be  as  fond  of  rocking  as  any  sailor,  Mr. 
Spooner  ?  Or — as  any  baby  ?" 

"  By  no  means,  Miss  Castleton,"  he  replied,  continuing  to 
rock  violently.  "The  motion  is  disagreeable  to  me  ;  I  merely 
do  it  from  a  sense  of  duty.  A  short  exercise  after  meals  has 
been  recommended  to  me  as  highly  salutary.  It  is  my  duty 
to  take  exercise  three  times  a  day,  but  that  after  dinner  must 
be  without  exertion." 

Sarah  once  remarked,  in  speaking  of  the  Theological  Semi- 
nary at  which  Mr.  Spooner  had  graduated,  that  the  place  had 
always  seemed  to  her  rather  gloomy. 

"Very  true,  Miss  Sarah,"  he  answered,  "  very  true.  I 
have  often  spoken  against  this  gloomy  spirit.  '  Brethren,'  I 
would  say,  '  let  us  be  cheerful !  It  is  our  duty  as  Christians 
to  be  cheerful.  For  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans  we  are  told 
to  rejoice  in  hope,  and  to  rejoice  with  those  that  do  rejoice, 
and  weep  with  them  that  weep.' " 

With  this  lover  Virginia  was  very  fond  of  teazing  Sarah, 
whenever  she  was  in  good  humour,  which,  indeed,  was  rarely 
enough  now.  The  perfect  equanimity  with  which  Sarah  bore 
this  and  everything  else,  from  its  contrast  to  Virginia's  capri- 


NEW    ACQUAINTANCES.  143 

cions,  passionate  manner,  made  her  appear  to  Clotilde  in  the 
most  favourable  light.  That  Mr.  Spooner's  person  did  not 
exactly  please  her,  any  observer  could  easily  discover.  But 
she  loved  and  esteemed  in  him  the  fellow-Christian,  the  brother 
in  the  church,  with  whom  she  agreed  in  all  Christian  truths. 
It  was  only  for  a  neighbour  in  church  that  she  involuntarily 
avoided  having  him.  For  nature  had  gifted  Sarah  with  a 
correct  ear,  and  a  sweet,  soft  voice  ;  she  therefore  liked  to 
join  in  the  singing,  though  she  had  not  enough  musical  skill 
to  take  a  part  in  the  choir.  Several  other  members  of  the 
congregation  did  as  she  did.  Mr.  Spooner,  particularly,  har- 
boured the  conviction  that  singing  was  as  well  a  Christian 
duty  as  prayer.  "  Is  it  not  our  duty  to  serve  the 'Lord  with 
all  our  senses  ?"  he  would  ask.  "  We  are  told  that  our  Saviour 
and  His  disciples  sang  a  hymn.  And  should  we  not  imitate 
Him  in  all  things  ?" 

He  therefore  declared,  following  the  doctrine  of  the  distin- 
guished divine,  President  Edwards,  that  it  was  as  great  a  sin 
of  omission  not  to  sing  in  praise  of  the  Lord,  who  gave  us  a 
voice,  as  not  to  pray  to  Him  ;  and,  from  sense  of  duty,  sent  up 
his  own  voice  with  full  force. 

Sarah  did  not  contradict  him.  But  as  it  unfortunately 
happened  that  his  voice,  in  spite  of  all  the  cultivation  he  had 
bestowed  upon  it  at  wirious  singing-schools,  in  the  fear  that, 
if  he  did  not  learn  how  to  sing  in  this  world,  he  should  not 
be  able  to  join  the  heavenly  choirs  in  their  songs  of  praise, 
resembled  more  the  creaking  of  an  ungreased  wheel  than 
"  a  clear  trumpet,"  and  as  the  possessor  of  this  voice  always 
accidentally  sang  either  a  few  notes  too  high  or  a  few  too  low, 
his  immediate  neighbourhood  was  rather  a  disturbance  to  her, 
and  she  preferred  to  withdraw  from  it  whenever  she  could  do 
so  without  offending  him. 

There  were,  however,  some  other  railleries  which  the  gentle 
Sarah  bore,  it  is  true,  with  the  same  patience,  but  not  without 
a  soft  blush  overspreading  her  sweet  face,  which  sometimes 


144  THE   EXILES. 

deepened  into  crimson  when  Virginia's  sharp,  merciless  tongue 
changed  the  raillery  into  ridicule  of  its  object. 

A  short  time  before,  one  of  the  messengers  of  God,  in 
whose  holy  work  Sarah  felt  such  a  deep  interest,  had  returned 
from  India,  and  come  to  visit  his  parents,  who  had  moved 
from  Virginia  to  Charleston  during  his  absence.  Though  still 
in  the  prime  of  manhood,  Elijah  Fleming — that  was  his  name 
— had  already  diligently  laboured  for  nearly  ten  years  in  the 
field  which  he  thought  most  adapted  to  his  powers,  that  is,  as 
a  missionary  in  the  East.  A  familiar  acquaintance  with  the 
country,  the  languages,  the  customs  of  tfiose  benighted  nations, 
had  aided  his  youthful  enthusiasm  ;  good  sense,  cheerful  mod- 
eration, dignity  of  presence,  and,  above  all,  a  heart  overflowing 
with  love,  made  him  a  fit  instrument  of  the  church  of  God. 
His  efforts  had  been  crowned  with  the  most  eminent  success  ; 
he  brought  with  him,  as  living  witnesses,  several  Hindoo  boys, 
who,  having  received  a  preparatory  training  at  schools  founded 
by  Fleming  in  their  vicinity,  were  to  be  finally  educated  at 
American  institutions,  for  Christian  teachers,  to  return  with 
him  in  a  few  years  to  India,  there  to  become  his  fellow-labour- 
ers in  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord,  his  assistants  in  the  great 
work  of  conversion.  For  he  himself  was  only  on  a  visit  to 
his  native  land,  partly  to  see  his  aged  parents  once  more,  and 
receive  their  blessing,  partly  to  restore  his  health,  which  had 
been  weakened  by  his  untiring  efforts  and  the  numerous  hard- 
ships which  he  had  undergone. 

He  had  still  another  object  in  his  jouuney,  however,  that 
perhaps  even  stood  in  the  foreground,  which  was,  to  choose  a 
new  companion  and  helpmate  among  his  countrywomen. 

For  besides  three  tender  children,  whose  bodies  he  had 
lowered  into  the  foreign  soil  with  a  submissive  heart,  as  the 
seed  of  the  Lord,  which  will  spring  up  on  high,  he  had  also 
buried  there  the  wife  of  his  youth,  with  a  heart  equally  sub- 
missive, it  is  true,  but  yet  with  the  deep  consciousness  that 
God's  hand  lay  heavily  upon  His  servant. 


NEW   ACQUAINTANCES.  145 

Whoa  Elijah  Fleming  left  America,  Harriet  Clayton  was 
too  young  to  accompany  him  as  his  wife.  They  \vere  the 
children  of  neighbouring  planters,  and  had  known  and  loved 
each  other  from  their  childhood.  Harriet  had  grown  up  in 
luxury  and  shallow  superficiality;  she  had  been  educated  in 
Richmond  at  a  fashionable  boarding-school,  among  the 
withering  influences  of  a  stiff,  dogmatical  formalism.  But 
through  the  atmosphere  of  worldly  vanity,  doctrinal  forms, 
and  selfish  idleness,  in  which  the  great  mass  of  American 
girls  from  wealthy  families  grow  up,  there  penetrates  a  warm 
breath  of  true  Christian  piety,  which  is  kept  alive  by  a 
thousand  daily  outward  incentives;  the  habit  of  attending 
church,  religious  periodicals,  Sabbath-schools,  the  example 
of  friends,  even  every  visit  to  a  bookstore  with  its  rows  of 
devotional  books  in  elegant  bindings,  and  memoirs  of  pious 
men  and  women  with  velvet  covers  and  gilt  edges.  But 
nothing  else  serves  so  much  to  fan  interest  to  the  flame  of; 
enthusiasm,  as  the  anniversaries  of  religious  societies,  which, 
with  their  imposing  publicity  and  their  statistic  particulars, 
bring  together  the  Christian  world  from  far  and  near,  and 
with  reports  of  which  the  papers  of  the  whole  country 
actually  overflow.  And  how  often  do  even  the  youngest 
children  form  societies  for  the  promotion  of  the  "Word  of  God 
as  far  as  is  in  their  power,  by  contributing,  through  their 
pocket-money  or  presents,  to  the  large  sums  annually  set 
apart  for  this  object  by  all  Christian  congregations  of  the 
United  States. 

'  It  is  to  be  regretted,  however,  that  the  veneration  for  the 
Holy  Word  is  often  carried  to  a  sort  of  idolatry — the  eyes 
\vhich  guide  the  hand  that  is  writing  these  lines,  once  saw  a 
pious,  affectionate  mother  chastise  a  child,  because  the  Bible 
was  among  some  books  which  it  threw  on  the  ground  in 
angry  disobedience.  It  is  to  be  regretted,  too,  that  on  the 
broad,  noisy  path  on  which  ecclesiastical  active  piety  pursues 
its  course,  many  a  place  is  still  left  for  the  vainest  worldliness, 
7 


146  THE   EXILES. 

the  lowest*  selfishness,  the  most  narrow-minded  intolerance  I 
And  that  cold,  vainglorious,  haughty  Pharisaism  has  also 
put  on  the  cloak  of  Clmstianity — that  the  Law  so  often 
rules  instead  of  Love,  the  Word  instead  of  the  Spirit ! — But 
you,  ye  truly  pious  souls  !  Sarah  Castleton,  Elijah  Fleming, 
and  countless  other  excellent  beings,  by  whose  mighty,  true 
Christian  zeal  all  those  rankling  and  noisome  weeds  of  the 
natural  soil  of  the  heart  are — not  rooted  up,  no,  that  would 
be  superhuman — but  carefully  stifled  in  the  germ,  blessed  arc 
ye,  ye  true  saints!  And  may  your  methodical  .severity,  your 
strange  cant  phraseology,  your  deadness  to  the  influence  of 
Art  and  sensitive  Nature,  never  disturb  my  reverential  appre- 
ciation of  your  hearts  consecrated  to  God ! 

In  Harriet  Clayton,  too,  the  divine  breath  of  religion 
soon  became  the  animating  spirit  of  her  life.  Her  journal, 
kept  from  her  earliest  youth,  exclusively  for  her  own  edifica- 
tion and  enlightenment,  was  published,  after  her  death,  in  the 
memoir  which  was  to  perpetuate  her  name  in  the  Christian 
world.  It  testified  to  the  untiring  faithfulness  with  which 
she  had  carried  on  her  moral  training,  but  also  showed 
how,  in  American  Christianity,  the  World,  even  in  its  most 
innocent  pleasures,  always  stands  opposed  to  Religion  as  its 
enemy;  and  how  every  thing  which  does  not  tend  to  the 
immediate  promotion  of  the  Christian  in  man,  is  rejected  as  a 
dangerous  obstacle  in  the  path  to  salvation,  just  as  all  which 
does  not  lead  directly  to  God,  is  avoided,  as  possibly  leading 
to  the  devil.  Harriet  had  not  yet  reached  her  seventeenth 
year,  when  she  declared  to  her  parents  her  decided  intention 
to  devote  herself  to  the  holy  work  of  a  missionary.  Her 
parents,  too,  were  zealous  members  of  the  Presbyterian 
Church,  yet  they  would  have  preferred  to  keep  their  daughter 
near  them.  But  American  parent*  have  little  influence  over 
their  children,  particularly  in  cases  where  the  church  is  on 
the  side  of  the  latter.  Harriet  availed  herself  of  the  com- 
pany of  an  elderly  missionary,  who,  with  his  wife,  was  going 


NEW   ACQUAINTANCES.  147 

to  Ceylon,  with  the  intention  of  teaching  at  one  of  the 
schools  there.  Here  she  was  nearer  to  the  beloved  friend 
of  her  childhood,  who  soon  joined  her,  and  took  her  home 
with  him  as  his  wife. 

But  Harriet's  frail  body,  still  delicate  from  an  education 
which  had  accustomed  her  to  all  the  refinements  of  luxury, 
and  steeled  by  no  kind  of  labour,  could  not  miss  a  mother's 
protecting  hand,  nor  bid  defiance  to  the  wasting  climate. 
After  having  given  birth  to  three  children  in  four  years 
— which  alone  unfitted  her  entirely  for  her  difficult  calling — 
ami  laid  them  all  in  their  graves,  she,  too,  went  home, 
broken  down  in  body,  but  with  a  soul  strong  in  faith.  The 
love  of  a  pious  Christian  of  Elijah  Fleming's  mode  of  thinking 
has,  on  the  whole,  little  that  is  personal  in  it.  The  fear 
of  forgetting  the  Creator  for  the  creature,  puts  no  slight 
restraint  on  an  exclusive,  individual  love,  a  love,  not  for  the 
virtues  and  excellencies,  but  for  the  peculiarities,  and  even 
for  the  weaknesses  and  defects,  of  its  object.  Fleming,  too, 
had  believed  that  it  was  chiefly  the  Christian  whom  he  loved 
in  Harriet;  but  when  he  had  lost  her  forever,  he  felt  deeply 
that  it  had  been  her  indescribable  loveliness  of  person  which 
had  delighted  him,  that  it  had  been  particularly  her  delicate 
weakness,  which  had  needed  his  constant  care  and  watching, 
that  had  been  a  garment  of  such  heavenly  transparency 
for  her  strong,  courageous  soul,  that  had  bound  him  so 
closely  to  her,  and  now  made  her  so  indispensable  to  him. 
He  consequently  suffered  three  whole  years  to  pass  before 
he  made  up  his  mind  to  supply  her  place,  and  as,  just  at  that 
period,  his  impaired  health  and  the  wish  of  his  parents  took 
him  to  America,  he  determined  to  carry  back  with  him  a 
new  companion  for  life,  in  the  choice  of  whom  he  would  be 
guided  partly  by  Christian  principles,  partly  by  firm  full 
health  of  body,  because  none  but  a  wife  who  possessed  these 
two  qualities  could  be  a  useful  fellow-labourer  with  him  on 
his  chosen  field. 


148  THE   EXILES. 

Mr.  Fleming  had  known  the  Castletons  formerly  ;  he  had 
even  for  a  while,  when  his  parents  lived  on  a  plantation  near 
that  of  Virginia's  grandparents,  been  the  frequent  playmate 
and  little  lover  of  the  beautiful  child.  But  the  tutoring 
and  censuring  tone  which  the  boy,  her  elder  by  several  years, 
and  mature  and  serious  for  his  age  besides,  assumed  towards 
the  haughty  little  lady,  had  quickly  sown  the  seed  of  dissen- 
sion between  the  two  children,  which  finally  sprung  up  on 
Elijah's  side  into  silent  contempt,  on  Virginia's  into  passion- 
ate hatred.  When  she  heard  of  his  return,  and  the  praise 
and  fame  that  accompanied  his  name  sounded  even  into  her 
circles,  to  which  such  matters  were  usually  so  foreign,  she  was 
roused  to  a  passing  interest  for  her  old  playmate,  and  invited 
him,  through  a  mutual  acquaintance,  to  come  and  see  her. 

Sarah  was  present  when,  one  morning,  he  made  his  ap- 
pearance, with  a  cordial  greeting  for  his  old  lady-love,  and 
visibly  struck  with  her  beauty.  But  in  the  conversation  that 
followed  the  first  welcome,  Sarah,  with  her  true,  sensible, 
earnest  sympathy  in  everything  he  had  to  say,  so  soon  and 
so  decidedly  gained  the  advantage  over  the  passing,  con- 
descending interest  with  which  he  had  entered  into  Virginia's 
rather  coquettish  jesting,  that  the  latter  felt  hurt,  and  for 
the  first  time  in  her  life  began  a  rivalry  with  Sarah.  To  tell 
the  truth,  she  cared  little  enough  about  making  a  conquest 
of  a  mere  missionary  ;  but  she  was  too  accustomed  to  be  the 
victor  in  every  combat,  to  give  up  this  one  without  a  struggle. 
But  when  she  found,  after  a  few  visits  of  the  young  mission- 
ary, that  all  her  shafts  glanced  off  from  that  breast  guarded 
by  the  armour  of  Christian  calmness,  she  gave  up  the  siege  of 
her  own  accord,  as  not  worth  continuing,  but  directed, 
instead,  the  sting  of  a  vindictive  ridicule  against  him,  which, 
to  be  sure,  wounded  poor  Sarah  more  than  Fleming  himself. 
A  man  who  lives  among  higher  things,  shows  to  the  sharp  eye 
of  a  young  girl  a  thousand  weak  sides.  At  one  time  she 
would  observe,  quite  seriously,  that  Elyah  Fleming  was  now 


NEW   ACQUAINTANCES.  149 

wearing  out  the  clothes  that  he  left  behind  him  ten  years 
ago;  then  she  would  conclude,  from  the  stiff  manner  in  which, 
when  he  once  dined  with  them,  he  used  his  knife  and  fork, 
that  he  had  lived  in  the  East  like  an  Oriental,  and  used  his 
fingers  to  eat  with  ;  then  again  she  found  his  slow,  hesitating 
way  of -speaking  too  tedious  to  bear  ;  another  time  she  would 
mockingly  imitate  his  defective  pronunciation  of  some  French 
words  which  he  used,  and  add  the  hope  that  he  did  not  bun- 
gle the  Oriental  languages  in  which  he  had  to  preach  quite 
as  much.  But  Fleming  gave  her  little  opportunity  for  such 
unkind  remarks.  With  her  and  the  two  gentlemen  he  felt 
like  a  stranger.  Sarah  he  met  occasionally  at  other  houses, 
and  showed  her  a  quiet  preference. 


150  THE   EXILES. 


CHAPTER   XL 


STORMY     WEATHER. 


was  no  doubt  that  Virginia  herself  was  far  too 
-L  sensible  to  attach  much  value  to  the  things  she  ridiculed 
in  Fleming,  in  a  man  whom  she  esteemed.  But  on  the  one 
hand  her  passionate  heart  was  not  capable  of  a  calm,  impar- 
tial judgment,  and  on  the  other  her  pride,  her  most  powerful 
passion,  had  been  hurt  in  this  case;  and  once  hurt  in  any  way, 
she  was  more  irritable,  and  therefore  more  cutting  than  ever. 
Her  whole  manner  showed,  by  a  feverish  restlessness,  that 
there  was  an  unnatural  working  within  her.  Clotilde  en- 
deavoured to  excite  her  to  increased  employment,  a  method 
of  cure  well  known  to  herself,  which  first  brings  a  sort  of 
stupefaction,  and  finally,  from  habit,  a  certain  degree  of  tran- 
quillity. But  occupation  with  the  German  language  only 
increased  the  evil  ;  Virginia  had  a  true,  easily  awakened 
feeling  for  poetry  ;  the  German  poets  that  she  read,  and  we 
know  that  she  would  read  none  but  love-poets,  excited  her 
more  and  more.  And  music  had  never  been  to  her  more 
than  a  social  art.  A  certain  indolence  of  character  kept 
her  from  any  attempt  to  solve  the  difficulties  of  modern 
compositions  of  any  merit.  Gifted  with  a  fine  talent,  she 
might  have  become  a  superior  pianist,  if  she  had  had  a  dan- 
gerous rival  in  any  other  belle  of  the  fashionable  world  ; 
jealousy  would  have  roused  the  powers  which  a  want  of 
self-education  had  lulled  to  sleep,  and  she  would  easily  have 


STORMY   WEATHER.  151 

conquered,  by  application  and  perseverance,  the  greatest 
difficulties,  if  she  could  at  the  same  time  have  gained  the 
victory  over  a  rival.  But  none  of  the  Charleston  fair  ones 
gave  her  an  opportunity  to  bring  her  ambition  into  action 
in  this  manner.  She  played  with  sufficient  fluency  to  shine 
in  company  by  the  performance  of  some  variations  of  Herz, 
she  could  sing,  with  a  melodious  voice,  skilfully  enough  to 
elicit  admiration,  some  German  or  Spanish  songs,  which  she 
executed  with  passionate,  but  not  always  correct  expression. 
That  was  enough  for  the  present.  Towards  Clotilde,  whose 
playing  and  singing  was  far  superior  to  hers,  but  who  played 
and  sang  only  when  alone,  Virginia  had  no  envious  feelings. 
On  the  contrary,  she  could  listen  with  sincere  admiration, 
even  with  a  sort  of  devotion,  when  she  sometimes  surprised 
her  friend  at  the  piano.  Altogether,  Clotilde  inspired  her 
with  a  feeling  which  bordered  on  reverence.  But  only  at 
times.  Often  she  accused  her,  in  her  heart,  of  coldness,  of 
indifference,  and  the  quiet  harmony  to  which  Clotilde,  after 
such  heart-rending  experiences,  seemed  to  have  attuned  her 
mind,  in  patient  resignation,  was  entirely  incomprehensible 
to  her.  It  was  not  long  before  an  accidental  occurrence 
laid  bare  her  own  discordant  state  of  mind  in  a  very  painful 
manner. 

One  morning  Phyllis  had  incensed  her  mistress  by  some 
awkward  presumption,  which  had  been  punished  by  a  severe 
reproof.  An  evil  spirit  goaded  the  offended  girl  to  revenge 
herself  in  her  own  shrewd  way  on  her  angry  mistress.  When, 
therefore,  Virginia,  about  to  dress  for  the  day,  seated  herself 
before  the  mirror,  and  her  handmaiden  loosened  her  rich  hair 
and  passed  the  comb  through  it,  she  skilfully  took  occasion  to 
speak  of  sea-bathing,  by  saying  that  "  de  sea-water  hadn't 
hurt  the  beau'M  gloss  of  Missy's  hair  a  bit,  after  all,  in  spite 
o!'  what  de  farmer's  wife  had  said,  where  the  German  baron 
lived." 

"  How  did  you  get  acquainted  with  her  ?"  asked  Virginia, 


152  THE   EXILES. 

eagerly  seizing  the  opportunity  of  speaking  about  any  one 
who  had  stood  in  some  relation  to  her  lover. 

"  Why,  it  was  all  de  walk  a  body  could  get  of  a  Sunday 
in  dat  great  heap  of  sand.  Cato  take  me  dere  one  afternoon. 
And  'cause  de  German  baron  al'us  use  come  and  see  Missy,  I 
want  to  hear  someting  more  'bout  him,  too." 

"  I  don't  think  you  can  have  heard  much  about  him  from 
the  farmer's  wife,"  said  Virginia,  with  a  beating  heart. 

"  Well,  I  don't  believe  it,  neider,  all  she  told  me  'bout  him 
and  de  Polish  count,"  replied  Phyllis. — "  Oh  my  !  what  beau- 
'ful  hair  Missy  got !" 

"What  did  she  tell  you  about  them?"  inquired  Yirginia, 
with  forced  indifference. 

"  Oh  !  dere  wa'n't  much  in  it !  She  tink  de  Polish  count 
been  a  great  prince  in  his  own  country.  An'  he  kill  sich  a 
Tartar  king  in  a  fight,  an'  have  to  run  away.  She  say  he 
must  be  very  poor,  for  he  got  not  one  shirt  dat  haven't  a  hole 
in  it,  and  he  speak  so  many  langiges — ebber  so  many  more  dan 
de  oder.  And  she  ax  me  why  Missy  didn't  take  him  for  a 
teacher,  'cause  he  wa'n't  married,  and  'cause  he  great  deal 
jollier  nor  de  oder.  De  picaninnies  wouldn't  go  'way  from 
bun,  a  bit,  she  say.  He  re'lly  spile  de  girls,  she  say,  and  de 
boys,  she  say " 

From  this  volley  of  words  but  one  passing  remark  sounded 
in  Virginia's  ear.  She  must  have  misunderstood. 

"  Why,"  she  at  length  interrupted  Phyllis,  "  should  I  have 
taken  another  teacher  ?" 

"  Oh  !"  said  Phyllis,  "  I  don't  believe  a  word  ob  dat !  She 
tell  big  lie  'bout  dc  hair,  so  dat  needn't  be  true,  eider.  And 
what  if  it  was  ?  A  married  gcmman  can  give  lessons  jist  as 
well  as  one  what  isn't  married." 

Phyllis  saw  in  the  glass  that  her  sting  had  struck  the 
tender  spot,  for  Virginia's  face  was  covered  with  a  deathlike 
pallour.  Her  object  was  gained  ;  she  only  wanted  to  pain  her 
a  little,  for  at  heart  she  was  quite  good-natured,  and  accus- 


STORMY   WEATHER.  153 

tomed,  besides,  to  do  her  part  towards  keeping  her  mistress  in 
good  humour.  She  therefore  hastened  to  find  a  balm  for  the 
wound  which  she  had  so  secretly  struck.  When  Yirginia 
asked,  with  a  voice  whose  trembling  she  was  unable  to 
conquer : 

"  Did  the  woman  say  that  Berghedorf  was  married  ?"  she 
answered  quickly  : 

"  How  she  know  dat  ?  She  only  tink  so,  'cause  he  have  a 
little  picter,  I  guess  he  paint  it  hisself,  and  he  al'us  kissin'  and 
huggin'  it,  when  he  all  alone,  and  talk  to  it  in  his  queer  lan- 
gige,  jist  like  as  if  he  crazy.  And  den  he  kiss  it  again,  and 
cry  over  it. — But  nebber  mind,  Missy,  who  know  if  it  wa'n't 
Missy's  own  picter  !" 

"  Impudent  hussy  !"  cried  Yirginia,  starting  up,  with  a 
glowing  fury  in  her  eyes  that  seemed  ready  to  crush  the 
frightened  girl  to  the  ground.  "  Your  audacity  goes  beyond 
all  bounds  !  I  will  put  up  my  hair  myself.  But  you  need 
not  think  that  your  boldness  will  go  unpunished.  I  had 
bought  that  red  dress,  that  you  were  wishing  for  the  other 
day — see,  here  it  is,"  she  continued,  violently  opening  a  drawer, 
and  displaying  to  Phyllis'  greedy  eyes  a  piece  of  stuff  of  a 
fiery  red. — "  But  now," — shutting  the  drawer  again, — "  now 
Diana  shall  have  it.  This  shall  be  your  punishment.  Go  !" 

And  then,  quickly  finishing  her  toilet,  she  ordered  Phyllis, 
with  a  proud  dignity  which  gave  her  figure  a  queenly  aspect, 
but  with  the  thorn  in  her  heart,  to  arrange  her  room  while 
she  was  taking  her  lesson  of  Miss  Osten  in  the  library,  and  to 
hurry  with  it  ;  upon  which  she  went,  with  forced  calmness,  to 
join  Clotilcle  who  was  expecting  her. 

The  latter  quickly  saw  that  something  had  happened  to 
her  ;  her  attention  could  hardly  be  fixed  on  anything,  though 
she  would  not  acknowledge  it.  But  they  had  not  been  at 
their  German  books  fifteen  minutes,  when  they  were  startled 
by  a  violent  crash,  which  sounded  from  Virginia's  room. 

They  hastened  to  the  spot.  What  a  sight  met  their  eyes  ! 
7* 


154  THE   EXILES. 

There  lay  the  exquisite  marble  statue,  in  fragments,  scattered 
over  the  floor ;  beside  it  stood  Phyllis,  trembling  in  every 
limb,  with  ashy  lips,  and  her  black  skin  discoloured  to  a 
strange,  dirty  gray,  with  the  mop  still  in  her  hand.  In  dust- 
ing the  walls,  with  an  awkwardness  caused  by  haste  and 
vexation,  she  had  accidentally  dealt  the  bust  an  unfortunate 
blow. 

Clotilde  looked  at  Virginia.  Every  trace  of  colour  had 
receded  from  her  beautiful  features.  But  from  under  the 
deathly-pale  brow  a  pair  of  eyes,  sparkling  with  rage,  shot 
out  two  flames  which  threw  the  poor,  sobbing  creature  at  her 
feet. 

"  Pardon,  pardon,  Missy  F  she  screamed,  trying  to  embrace 
her  mistress'  knees. 

But  Yirginia,  still  unable  to  utter  a  word,  thrust  her  from 
her  with  such  unnatural  force,  that  the  unfortunate  girl  fell  at 
full  length  upon  the  floor. 

Meanwhile  Sarah  had  come  in.  She  was  followed,  by 
degrees,  by  all  the  servants,  brought  there  by  the  noise,  among 
them  Cato,  the  steward,  a  rejected  lover  of  Phyllis,  a  malicious, 
revengeful  fellow.  His  master's  confidence  in  him  had  made 
of  him  a  sort  of  overseer  for  the  other  domestics. 

"  It  was  a  great  carelessness,"  said  Sarah  at  length,  "  which 
you.  will  lament  and  forgive,  Yirginia." 

All  eyes  were  turned  to  Virginia,  who  still  stood  in  silence. 
How  terribly  did  her  restrained  fury  disfigure  that  beautiful 
mouth,  the  corners  of  which  were  drawn  down  convulsively  ! 
How  awful  was  the  fire  in  those  black,  sparkling  eyes,  those 
mirrors  of  her  dreadfully  agitated  soul ! 

"  Would  you  bite  me  in  both  heels,  miserable  reptile  ?"  she 
finally  said,  and  there  was  an  unnatural  hoarseness  in  her 
voice.  "  Was  one  bite  of  the  serpent  not  enough  ?  But  as  true 
as  I  live,  you  shall  feel  my  power  !  You  shall  not  shatter 
everything  I  love  with  impunity  !  Steward,  your  master  has 
made  over  to  you  his  right  of  punishment.  Take  this  misera- 


STOKMY   WEATHER.  155 

ble  creature  that  has  chosen  this  shameful  mode  of  revenging 
herself  on  her  mistress,  who  has  spoiled  her  by  kindness,  and 
give  her  thirty  lashes  upon  her  tender  back,  immediately  !" 

Phyllis'  shrieks  almost  drowned  the  words  of  Clotilde  and 
Surah,  who  were  both  warmly  and  zealously  remonstrating 
with  Virginia. 

"  Virginia  !"  cried  the  former,  "  you  will  not  punish  so 
cruelly  a  mere  carelessness  ?" 

"  I  beg  you  would  allow  me  to  manage  my  own  affairs, 
Miss  Osten  I" 

"  Sister,  the  Scripture  says :  '  Be  not  hasty  in  thy  spirit 
to  be  angry,  for  anger  resteth  in  the  bosom  of  fools.'  And 
are  we  not  told  that,  '  the  merciful  man  doeth  good  to  his 
own  soul,  but  he  that  is  cruel  trouble th  his  own  flesh  ?' " 

"  I  readily  believe,  Sarah,  even  without  your  quoting  the 
whole  Bible."  said  Virginia,  with  a  sneer,  "  that  you  find  it 
easy  to  forgive  my  mother's  being  abused  in  her  grave  !" — 
and,  turning  to  leave  the  room,  "  Steward,  do  your  duty  1" 

The  horrible  fellow  had  already  seized  Phyllis'  arm  with 
malicious  pleasure,  and  was  about  to  drag  the  struggling 
g'rl  along  with  him,  but  a  stern  glance  from  Sarah  kept  him 
back. 

Her  sweet,  clear  face  looked  inexpressibly  grieved.  "  Sis- 
ter," she  said,  "truly  you  wrong  me,  but  that  does  not 
matter  now.  You  will  be  sorry  for  that  yourself,  but  beware 
of  doing  what  no  repentance  will  make  amends  for.  Virginia, 
blessed  arc  the  meek  !" 

She  had  put  her  arm  around  her  sister,  but  Virginia, 
extricating  herself,  said,  coldly,  "  Spare  your  words  ! — Cato, 
disobey  me  on  your  own  responsibility !"  And  then,  without 
a  glance  at  the  unhappy  Phyllis,  she  left  the  room,  and 
locked  herself  in  the  library.  Cato  dragged  the  girl  down 
stairs.  The  others  followed. 

Clotilde  was  as  if  stunned.  The  whole  scene  had  hardly 
lasted  ten  minutes.  "  Apply  to  your  father,  Sarah,"  she 


156  THE   EXILES. 

said,  "he  will  not  suffer  Virginia's  passion  to  abuse  Ms 
power." 

"  I  fear,"  said  Sarah,  shrugging  her  shoulders  with  a  sad 
smile.  "The  girl  belongs  to  Virginia;  she  has  inherited 
her  and  her  whole  family  from  her  mother.  And  besides, 
my  father  is  not  at  home." 

At  this  moment  they  heard  the  front  door  open,  and  Mr. 
Castleton's  steps  cross  the  hall.  Sarah  hastened  down 
stairs  and  warmly  represented  the  case  to  him,  observing 
that  a  mere  carelessness  of  this  kind  shculd  be  punished  by 
a  reproof,  but  not  by  the  lash. 

But  her  father  frowned  and  cried,  "  What !  do  you  know 
that  that  bust  cost  me  three  thousand  dollars  ?  It  is  quite 
unwarrantable  !  Any  one  that  causes  such  a  loss  deserves 
severe  punishment  1" 

"  But  thirty  blows  !  And  a  young,  delicate  girl,  father  ! 
It  is  cruelty  !"  . 

Mr.  Castleton's  face  grew  darker.  "  Well,  perhaps  it  is 
too  much  1  Twenty  would  be  enough.  I'll  speak  to  Vir- 
ginia." He  was  about  to  go  up  stairs,  but  stopped  on  the 
first  step. 

"You  know,  Sarah,"  he  said,  "I  don't  like  to  meddle  in 
Virginia's  affairs  ;  she  is  too  high-tempered  !  The  image  of 
her  mother.  The  girl  belongs  to  her.  I'll  speak  to  her 
when  she  is  more  quiet." 

Just  then  the  screams  of  the  poor  girl  resounded  from  the 
basement.  One  sharp,  pointed  shriek  after  the  other  came 
up,  and  Clotilde  thought  she  heard  the  blow  of  the  lash 
between  each.  A  shudder  ran  through  her  body.  Sarah, 
too,  changed  colour.  The  gloom  on  Mr.  Castleton's  face 
deepened. 

"  It  won't  hurt  the  wench  much,  after  all,"  he  said, 
gruffly.  "  The  bust  was  worth  five  of  her."  He  went  down 
stairs,  however  ;  his  thundering  voice  was  heard  in  the  base- 
ment, and  soon  after  all  was  still. 


STORMY    WEATHER.  157 

"  Sarah,"  asked  Clotilde,  in  violent  agitation,  "and  can 
your  gentle  heart  approve  of  such  a  state  of  things,  a  state 
which  can  tempt  even  good  persons  to  such  crimes  ;  is  it 
possible  ?" 

"Oh,  Clotilde!"  cried  Sarah,  bursting  into  tears,  "are 
there  no  fathers  who  abuse  their  power  ?  Are  there  no  cruel 
mothers  ?  And  would  you  annul  parental  authority  because 
it  can  be  abused  ?" 

"  Then  you  must  give  slaveholders  parental  love,  at  least," 
replied  Clotilde.  But  she  felt  that  this  was  not  the  right 
time  for  arguing.  Her  heart  was  painfully  moved ;  she 
longed  to  escape  from  this  house, — from  this  land  of  tyranny, 
to  go  back  to  her  dear  Germany,  where  these  abominations 
at  least  could  never  have  met  her  eye. 

Virginia  did  not  make  her  appearance  all  day.  When  the 
family  assembled  for  dinner,  Sarah  had  not  quite  recovered 
from  her  agitation,  but  otherwise  there  was  no  trace  to  be 
seen  of  the  stormy  scene  of  the  morning,  and  Clotilde  could 
easily  observe  that  it  seemed  to  the  rest  of  the  household 
much  less  new  and  unheard  of  than  to  her. 

Next  morning,  as  Virginia  did  not  come  to  breakfast,  Clo- 
tilde reluctantly  made  up  her  mind  to  send  to  inquire  whether 
she  would  take  her  lesson.  The  answer  was,  "  Miss  Castleton 
requested  Miss  Osten  to  visit  her  in  her  room."  Virginia 
lay  on  the  sofa,  with  her  face  hidden,  when  Clotilde  entered 
the  room,  with  a  cold,  serious  expression  in  her  face.  She 
quietly  seated  herself  by  a  window  at  the  other  side  of  the 
apartment  and  waited  for  Virginia  to  speak. 

At  length  she  asked  :  "  Will  you  not  read  with  me,  Vir- 
ginia ?" 

Virginia  started  up.  Her  beautiful  face  was  bathed  in 
tears.  "  Clotilde  !"  she  cried,  "  I  know  you  despise  me,  you 
hate  me  !  He  too  must  hate  me,  must  loathe  me  !  Oh  ! — 
what  has  this  Unhappy  love  made  of  me  ?" 

"  I  pity  yon,  poor  Virginia,"  replied  Clotilde,  with  gentle 


158  THE   EXILES. 

voice.  "The  unfortunate  habit  of  power  has  taken  captive 
your  better  judgment.  You  are  faithless  to  your  own  nobler 
nature,  if  you  give  way  to  this  unhappy  passionate  temper  !" 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened  ;  Phyllis,  the  flaming-red 
stuff  on  her  arm,  entered,  her  eyes  sparkling  with  delight. 
She  wore  a  dress  that  but  a  few  days  before  had  graced  the 
form  of  her  fair  mistress,  and  the  expression  of  vanity  in  her 
face,  her  mincing  gait,  and  the  caressing  thanks  with  which 
she  overwhelmed  her  mistress,  who  had  had  the  wished-for 
garment  laid  on  her  bed,  only  too  plainly  convinced  Clotilde 
that  Phyllis  had  been  far  from  making  as  much  of  the  matter 
as  she  and  Sarah. 

Her  eyes  met  Virginia's.  The  latter  seemed  to  say  : 
"You  see,  at  least,  that  I  know  my  men,  and  that  I  am, 
after  all,  not  as  culpable  as  I  seem."  Clotilde  sighed  heavily. 
It  was  only  now  that  it  became  clear  to  her  what  a  terrible 
curse  upon  mankind  the  state  of  slavery  is.  Corporeal  abuse, 
restriction  of  freedom,  accumulation  of  labgur, — what  is  all 
this  to  that  degradation  of  moral  feeling,  to  that  abasement 
of  self-consciousness,  which  does  not  even  feel  the  wrong 
that  it  is  made  to  bear  !  She  had  often  heard  Alonzo 
bring  up,  as  an  argument  for  the  slavery  of  the  Southern 
States,  the  fact  that  the  slave  feels  by  no  means  unhappy, 
that  he  does  not  even  wish  to  be  free,  and  had  always  felt 
that  this  argument  was  in  fact  the  strongest  which  could  be 
held  up  against  it.  The  living  confirmation  which  she  had 
just  experienced,  pained  her  deeply.  She  said  nothing,  but 
took  up  a  book ;  Virginia  commenced  reading,  and  soon  every- 
thing was  as  before. 


THE   VOLCANO   is   WORKING.  159 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE     VOLCANO     IS     "WORKING. 

AT  last  Mrs.  Gardiner  had  started  on  her  journey  home  ; 
Mr.  Spooner's  visits  therefore  were  restricted  to  coming 
for  Sarah  to  go  with  him  to  various  weekly  evening-meetings, 
lectures,  monthly  concerts,  prayer-meetings,  etc.,  and  seeing 
her  home  in  the  evening.  Even  Alonzo  appeared  to  feel  that 
he  had  been  his  uncle's  guest  long  enough  ;  but  it  seemed  as 
if  he  could  not  get  away.  He  was  as  if  enchanted.  Perhaps 
it  was  the  inborn  obstinacy  of  his  disposition,  that  made  his 
object  the  more  tempting  to  him  because  it  was  hard  to 
attain.  By  perseverance,  by  patience,  by  unceasing  devotion, 
he  hoped  finally  to  win  the  heart  of  the  beautiful,  impassioned 
girl. 

The  gay  season  had  arrived,  one  ball  followed  the  other, 
Virginia  was  out  nearly  every  evening,  and  Alonzo  her  con- 
stant escort.  Sarah  never  accompanied  them,  Mr.  Castleton 
did  not  like  to  do  so  ;  he  had  placed  the  young  queen  of  all 
assemblies  under  her  cousin's  special  protection.  Alonzo  was 
looked  upon  as  his  cousin's  probable  future  husband  ;  but 
even  if  it  had  not  been  so,  Clotilde  was  told,  no  one,  in  a 
society  which,  like  that  of  America,  is  composed  mostly  of 
young  people,  could  find  anything  in  the  least  conspicuous 
in  the  independent  movements  of  a  young  lady  of  Virginia's 
age.  That  the  strictest  morality,  and  the  high  respect  in 
which  the  female  sex  is  held,  gives  this  society,  superficial 
and  empty  though  it  may  be,  the  stamp  of  a  certain  dignity. 


160  THE   EXILES. 

That  every  lady,  when  invited  out,  if  she  has  no  father, 
husband,  or  brother  at  her  disposal,  is  authorised  to  bring 
with  her  a  gentleman  as  escort  and  humble  servant,  and  that 
no  privilege  is  attached  to  this  office.  Alonzo  had  to  see  his 
fair  cousin  flirt,  laugh,  dance  with  others,  and  turn  her  back 
upon  himself,  while  an  inward  fire  was  consuming  him;  but 
throw  her  cloak  over  her  white,  round  shoulders,  lift  her  into 
the  carriage,  and  ride  home  with  her  every  night — that  no 
one  else  might  do,  and  there  was  happiness  in  that,  though 
it  was  a  scanty  one. 

True,  in  most  cases,  worn  out  by  the  effort  of  being 
brilliant,  witty,  and  gay,  with  a  heart  full  of  misery  and 
longing  all  the  while,  she  would  sullenly  lean  back  in  a 
corner  of  the  carriage,  and  Alonzo's  questions  of  "  Are  you 
tired,  cousin  ?"  or  "  Don't  you  feel  well  ?"  received  no  other 
answer  but  a  petulant  movement.  But  sometimes,  if  she  had 
neglected  him  too  much  during  the  evening,  and  particularly 
if  she  had  flirted  too  much  with  any  single  one  from  the 
host  of  her  admirers,  and  he  sat  beside  her  in  silence,  in  an 
excited  and  gloomy  mood,  she  herself  would  take  the  first 
step  towards  a  reconciliation;  for  her  cousin,  her  constant 
escort  and  humble  servant,  and  so  true  a  cavalier  in  manners 
and  opinions,  could  not  easily  be  dispensed  with. 

"Cousin,"  she  would  say,  laughing,  "you  are  the  most 
amusing  creature  I  ever  saw  ;  I  could  count  the  words  you 
have  spoken  to-night  ;"  or  she  would  even  reproach'  him  that 
he  always  left  her  to  others  in  company.  But  when  all  this 
was  of  no  avail,  and  he  remained  silent  and  reserved,  she  would 
cry,  roguishly  :  "  How  tiresome  it  is  to  ride  home  at  night 
all  alone  !  I  thought  Alonzo  was  with  me,  but  I  don't  see 
or  hear  anything.  I  wonder  if  I  could  feel  anything  ?" — and 
would  commence  to  feel  his  shoulders  and  face  with  her 
little  hands,  until  he,  to  convince  her  of  his  presence,  moved 
quite  close  to  her,  and,  growing  bolder,  threw  his  arm  about 
her,  and  stole  a  kiss  from  the  laughing,  struggling  girl. 


THE   VOLCANO   is   WORKING.  101 

Such  sweet  food,  sparing  though  it  was,  kept  the  love  in 
Alonzo's  heart  alive.  But  happy  the  noble  youth  was  not, 
that  Clotilde  could  see  plainly.  The  hot  fire  glowed  power- 
fully under  the  ashes  that  covered  it  ;  it  needed  perhaps  only 
a  breath  to  make  it  break  out  into  a  flame,  which,  in  its 
ceaseless  spreading,  must  become  ruinous  to  others  too. 

Mr.  Castleton,  too,  who  was  already  naturally  wanting  in 
cheerfulness,  had  been  for  some  time  gloomy  and  out  of 
humour.  He  had  been  drawn  into  an  Abolitionist  contest, 
which  exasperated  him,  although  it  was  only  carried  on  by 
pen  in  the  papers,  or  by  speeches  in  public  meetings.  Mr. 
Castleton  would  have  liked  to  argue  his  cause  after  the 
cavalier-fashion,  by  the  horse-whip  or  a  brace  of  pistols,  if  his 
opponents  had  only  been  on  the  spot.  But  to  see  the  noble 
"  domestic  institution  of  slavery,"  on  which  the  true  feeling 
of  cavalier-freedom  had  built  its  surest  foundation,  bespattered 
with  poison  from  the  safe  distance  of  New  York  and  Boston, 
often  threw  him  into  a  species  of  silent  rage. 

Thus  Sarah  was  the  only  one  in  the  family,  who,  with  a 
perfectly  cheerful  equanimity,  and  kindness  to  every  one,  pur- 
sued her  quiet  path.  Neither  her  father's  discordant  state 
of  mind,  nor  the  ill-humour  of  her  sister,  neither  Alonzo's 
restless  uneasiness,  nor  Clotilde's  quiet  sorrow  could  exert  a 
disturbing  influence  over  her  mind. 

One  morning,  quite  early,  several  gentlemen  came  to  see 
Mr.  Castleton.  There  was  much  coming  and  going,  and 
an  earnest  whispering  in  the  hall,  when  Clotilde  and  Sarah 
went  down  to  breakfast,  and  saw  the  master  of  the  house 
standing  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  surrounded  by  several 
strangers. 

He  kept  breakfast  waiting  a  long  time. 

At  length  he  came,  highly  excited,  and  agitated,  as,  with 
his  usually  dry,  serious  manner,  Clotilde  had  never  seen  him 
before.  As  soon  as  the  waiter  could  possibly  be  spared,  he 
sent  him  out  of  the  room.  "  Only  think,  Alonzo,"  he  said, 


162  THE   EXILES. 

"last  night,  again,  about  twenty  people  have  run  away  from 
three  or  four  families  of  our  acquaintance.  Mr.  Preston's 
coachman  is  missing,  with  wife  and  children;  five  or  six  have 
run  off  from  both  the  Dunnings',  and  Mrs.  Benton  misses 
a  capital  cook,  a  skilful  pie  baker,  that  she  was  offered  two 
thousand  dollars  for  only  a  day  or  two  ago,  but  wouldn't 
give  away  under  two  thousand  five  hundred;  now  she  wishes 
she  had  let  her  go  for  that,  to  be  sure." 

"  That  rascally  Abolition-herald,  Atkinson,  must  be  at  the 
bottom  of  this,"  remarked  Alonzo.  "  Didn't  I  tell  you  the 
other  day,  uncle,  that  I  had  heard  he  was  in  town,  here, 
under  an  assumed  name  ?" 

"  It's  only  too  certain,"  replied  Mr.  Castleton,  "  that  he 
is  connected  with  it,  and  the  whole  pack  of  them.  My 
cousin,  Mrs.  Cutter,  only  the  other  day,  found  her  children 
over  a  heap  of  little  books  called  '  The  Slave's  Friend,'  a 
production  as  diminutive  in  mind  as  in  size.  They  said  a 
man  had  given  them  the  rubbish  in  the  street,  when  they 
were  coming  from  school." 

"  Well,  and  those  shameful  incendiary  papers,  you  can 
see  them  wherever  you  go,"  said  Alonzo.  "  I  noticed  one 
the  other  day,  put  up  in  the  midst  of  all  the  theatre  and 
concert  bills;  no  one  could  tell  how  it  got  there." 

"What  was  it?"  inquired  Virginia. 

"  As  usual,  accusations  of  the  white  masters,  who  will 
not  sacrifice  all  their  property  and  turn  beggars,  only 
because  Atkinson  and  his  associates  think  it  right.  And  a 
lamentable  history,  besides,  how  Moses  Patton,  the  notorious 
Abolitionist,  in  Boston,  while  sitting  at  his  breakfast,  got  a 
letter,  with  an  Alabama  postmark  on  it,  and  which  he  had 
to  pay  treble  postage  for;  and  how  he  flattered  himself  with 
the  idea  of  some  valuable  present,  and  made  his  wife  and 
children  guess,  and  finally  found  in  it — a  negro's  ear  !  And 
more  of  the  like  stuff." 

The  ladies  shuddered,  but  Mr.  Castleton  laughed  aloud. 


THE  VOLCANO   is   WORKING.  163 

"  A  silly  joke  of  the  correspondent,  but  served  that  busy-body, 
that  incendiary,  just  right.  He  brewed  that  breakfast 
himself.  It  won't  hurt  him  to  have  his  appetite  spoilt  for 
once." 

"  And  how  cunningly  this  anti-slavery  rabble  goes  to  work," 
continued  Alonzo.  "  The  other  day  my  tailor  sent  me  a  new 
suit  of  clothes  ;  every  piece  carefully  wrapped  in  newspaper. 
This  surprised  me.  I  looked  closer  at  the  sheets  ;  lo  and 
behold,  they  were  the  latest  numbers  of  that  scandalous  paper, 
the  Liberator.  The  fellow  declared  he  had  not  looked  at  the 
paper  ;  that  it  had  been  sent  to  him,  with  some  others,  from 
Boston.  He  is  from  there.  Well,  he  has  worked  for  me  for 
the  last  time." 

"  His  wife  is  a  member  of  Dr.  Miller's  church,"  said  Sarah. 
"  But  she  seems,  indeed,  to  have  dangerous  connections  ;  her 
maiden  name  is  Atkinson.  She  is  a  pious  Christian  other- 
wise." 

"  A  pretty  sort  of  Christianity,"  said  Mr.  Castleton,  with  a 
sneer,  "that  does  not  prevent  her  from  wanting  to  rob  other 
people  of  their  property." 

"  Was  the  flight  of  these  slaves  not  caused  by  any  particu- 
lar occurrence  ?"  asked  Virginia. 

"Nothing  of  the  least  importance,"  replied  her  father. 
"  There  seems  to  have  been  something  of  a  plot  going  on  for 
some  time.  Mrs.  Dunning  sold  two  women  to  Alabama,  not 
long  since,  who  didn't  want  to  go  away,  because  the  Dun- 
nings  couldn't  spare  the  husband  of  one  of  them,  who  has  been 
their  coachman  several  years.  The  other  one  had  to  leave  a 
heap  of  children  behind  her,  and  a  sort  of  lover  besides. 
And  so  there  was  a  terrible  howling  and  shrieking  at  Dun- 
ning's,  so  that  the  whole  neighbourhood  ran  together." 

"  It  is  inexcusable,  Papa,"  said  Sarah,  "  to  separate  families 
in  that  way." 

"Pray  Sarah,"  said  her  father,  with  much  severity,  "what 
was  Mrs.  Dunning  to  do  ?  Her  eldest  boy  is  at  Cambridge; 


lot  THE    EXILES. 

since  Ii3  was  sixteen  he  has  played  like  any  old  gambler  at 
Spa.  He  gives  his  poor  worthy  mother  trouble  enough.  He 
went  to  Saratoga  last  summer,  and  lost  five  thousand  dollars 
at  one  sitting,  and  hadn't  a  cent  to  pay  with  ;  so  he  got 
frightened,  thinking  he  would  be  expelled  from  college,  and 
wrote  to  his  mother,  entreating  her  to  send  him  the  five 
thousand  dollars  ;  if  not,  he  would  send  a  bullet  through  his 
head.  The  boy  is  vastly  ambitious.  His  poor  mother  was 
in  an  agony  of  fear,  and  as  she  was  just  out  of  ready  money, 
and  an  agent  from  Alabama  happened  to  be  there  at  the 
time,  she  sold  her  own  maid,  a  very  skillful  woman,  that  could 
dress  hair,  and  make  bonnets,  and  that  she  did  get  two 
thousand  dollars  for.  It  was  no  small  sacrifice.  The  other 
was  not  good  for  much,  she  was  glad  to  get  rid  of  her.  And 
the  beautiful  mirror,  that  she  had'  just  got  for  the  back 
parlour,  the  poor  woman  has  been  obliged  to  sell,  too,  to  sat- 
isfy the  boy.  The  other  splendid  furniture  that  she  had  just 
received  from  New  York,  she  was  able  to  keep,  fortunately. 
After  such  losses  four  runaways  are  no  joke." 

Clotilde,  during  Mr.  Castleton's  relation,  did  not  dare 
to  look  at  Sarah,  whose  young  face  was  covered  with  a  holy 
glow. 

"  I  hope  Mrs.  Dunning  will  recognise  the  long-suffering 
of  our  Lord,  Papa,"  she  said,  gravely,  "  in  punishing  the  frivo- 
lous use  to  which  she  puts  the  talents  intrusted  to  her  care, 
so  very  mildly,  by  the  loss  of  her  property.  I  fear  His 
judgment  is  preparing  for  her  a  far  severer  chastisement  in 
her  profligate  son,  into  whose  hands  she  put  those  wicked 
cards  as  a  plaything  when  he  was  still  a  child  !" 

Her  father  frowned.  He  was  about  to  give  a  provoked 
answer,  when  Virginia  cut  off  his  words  by  asking  rather 
scornfully  : 

"  And  what  will  those  poor  families  who  have  been  robbed 
do  now,  to  recover  their  property.  Are  they  on  the  track  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,  the  police  are  stationed  at  the  railroad  depot,  and 


THE    VOLCANO    is    WORKING.  165 

all  the  ships  in  the  harbour  are  being  examined.  We  hope, 
too,  to  find  oat  that  rascal  Atkinson,  in  spite  of  his  disguise. 
And  he  has  had  an  assistant  here  of  late,  a  German  adven- 
turer, in  whose  philosophy  full  of  mist  and  vapours  the  hor- 
rors of  slavery  are  out  of  place.  This  fellow  assembles  the 
Germans  of  this  city  evening  after  evening,  to  hear  him  make 
long,  obscure  speeches  on  the  rights  of  man,  and  true  liberty 
and  equality,  and  exhorts  them  to  gain  the  German  name  the 
fame  of  first  breaking  the  chains  of  their  enslaved  black 
brethren,  and  more  of  the  like  nonsense.  A  regular  fanfar- 
onade !  To  come  from  a  country  where  they  have  thirty  or 
forty  tyrants,  and  preach  liberty  here  in  democratic  America  ! 
The  fellow  is  said  to  speak  quite  well,  however,  which  makes 
him  all  the  more  dangerous.  But  we'll  stop  him  soon 
enough  !" 

Virginia  was  all  attention.  "  What  is  the  name  of  this 
German  advocate  of  freedom,  Papa?"  she  asked  with  a 
beating  heart. 

"  I  have  forgotten  his  name.  It's  one  of  your  outlandish, 
unpronounceable  names.  Excuse  me,  Miss  Osteu!  But  there 
are  worthless  people  in  every  nation.  George  Calhoun  saw 
him  yesterday  at  the  auction,  as  he  stood  there,  with  his  lips 
pressed  together,  and  throwing  his  eyes  about  him  like 
daggers.  George  has  studied  in  Heidelberg,  or  somewhere 
thereabouts,  and  talks  German  like  a  native.  He  heard 
quite  plainly  how  he  ran  down  our  institutions  to  another 
German  as  insolently  as  the  worst  Abolitionists." 

"  I  wish,  uncle,"  said  Alonzo,  with  a  frown,  avoiding 
Clotilde's  eye,  "these  auctions  could  be  done  away  with; 
it  is  an  exceedingly  undignified  way  of  getting  rid  of  one's 
property." 

"  That  is  a  Spanish  prejudice,"  replied  Richard  Castleton, 
rather  nettled.  "  However,  you  can  rely  upon  it  that  no 
very  valuable  negro  is  ever  sold  in  that  way ;  unless  it  were 
absolutely  necessary  on  account  of  the  division  of  an  inherit- 


166  THE    EXILES. 

ance.  Generally  it  is  only  such  boys  and  girls  as  are  not  good 
for  much  that  are  sent  to  the  market.  Capable  ones  can  be 
sold  much  better  privately.  But  I  don't  see  what  business 
it  is  of  any  foreigner's.  It  is  perfectly  absurd  to  hear  these 
servants  of  kings  rattle  on  about  liberty,  and  equality,  and 
the  rights  of  men  !  As  far  as  the  ideas  of  liberty  are  con- 
cerned, the  Europeans  must  go  to  school  to  us,  though  we 
may  have  to  learn  one  thing  or  another  of  them  yet  in  other 
matters." 

"  Where  does  this  German  hold  his  assemblies,  Papa  ?" 
asked  Virginia,  with  feigned  indifference. 

"  In  the  new  hall  that  they  have  recently  built;  where 
they  come  together  and  smoke  in  the  evening.  They  have 
called  it  Hermann  Hall,  after  one  of  their  celebrated  generals 
in  the  thirty-years'  war — or" — as  he  saw  a  slight  smile  playing 
about  Clotilde's  mquth — "  was  it  in  the  seven-years'  war, 
Miss  Osten  ?  -You  see  I  am  not  over  firm  in  History,  par- 
ticularly in  the  modern  part  of  it.  In  ancient,  particularly 
in  Roman  history,  I  always  had  the  reputation  of  a  con- 
noisseur at  school." 

"  Wasn't  that  man's  name  Becker^  Papa  ?"  inquired  Vir- 
ginia, stooping  to  pick  up  her  napkin,  which  had  slipped  from 
her  lap.  "  Seems  to  me  I  have  heard  of  an  abolition  advocate 
named  Becker." 

"  Yes,  yes,  something  like  that ;  not  Becker,  Beckhof, 
Berghof,  or  something  of  the  kind.  But  we'll  catch  the  fine 
gentleman,  no  fear.  So  far  he  has  not  actually  done  anything 
illegal,  so  that  he  could  have  been  arrested,  but  he  is  on  the 
way  to  it." 

"Mr.  Castleton,"  said  Clotilde,  calmly,  "if  my  country- 
man has  done  nothing  against  the  law,  if  he  only  exhorts  his 
German  brethren  to  liberate  their  slaves,  not  the  slaves  to 
break  loose  by  violence, — for  what  do  you  wish  to  punish 
him  ?" 

"  For  what,  Miss  Osten  ?     For  his  murderous  intentions. 


THE   VOLCANO   is   WORKING.  167 

Allow  me  to  ask,"  he  continued,  evidently  exasperating 
himself  while  speaking,  "if  you  see  a  man  sneaking  about 
your  house  with  matches  and  shavings  in  one  hand,  and  a 
cask  of  powder  in  the  other,  and  you  see  him  distributing 
these  innocent  playthings  among  the  children,  who  are  playing 
in  the  street  before  your  window,  and  hear  him  say:  '  what  a 
bright  light  there  would  be,  if  you  set  the  house  on  fire,  and 
how  nice  and  warm  you  would  feel !'  would  you  think  it  quite 
prudent  to  wait  till  the  children  tried  the  experiment? — 
Excuse  me,  my  dear  Miss  Osten,  I  entertain  the  most  pro- 
found esteem  for  your  learning,  for  your  superior  mind,  but 
this  question  is  one  of  which  foreigners  can  in  no  case  judge, 
nor  even  Americans  from  the  North,  none  but  we  Southerners; 
for  it  is  our  affair,  and  concerns  us  alone.  No  other  person 
has  a  right  to  say  a  word  about  it  1" 

At  this  juncture  Sarah  moved  her  chair.  She  hardly 
remembered  ever  to  have  seen  her  father  so  irritated  before. 
They  all  rose  and  went  upstairs.  A  few  moments  after,  Clotilde, 
who  was  standing  at  the  parlour  window,  heard  the  front  door 
close  softly.  She  looked  out,  and  saw  a  slender  figure,  in  her 
own  cloak  and  bonnet,  her  black  veil  before  her  face,  slip  out 
of  the  house,  and  walk  rapidly  down  the  street.  She  could 
easily  guess  that  it  was  Virginia,  who  was  going  out  to  gain 
intelligence,  and  did  not  wish  to  be  recognised.  Her  mind, 
too,  was  deeply  troubled.  "  Oh,  that  those  unfortunate  slaves 
might  escape  in  safety  !"  she  sighed,  "  and  that  poor  Berghe- 
dorf — if  it  is  he — might  recognise  the  danger  of  his  mission! 
He  seems  a  man  of  noble  feelings.  His  modesty,  his  discre- 
tion towards  Virginia,  with  her  warmth,  her  passion  !  Oh, 
I  must  watch  over  that  poor  heart !  I  must  show,  by  warn- 
ing her,  that  I  am  her  friend  !" 

In  less  than  an  hour  Virginia  returned.  The  servant 
who  let  her  in  took  her  for  Miss  Osten ;  she  ran  up  to  the 
library,  where  she  left  her  hat  and  cloak,  and  then  went  to 
her  room  and  sent  Phyllis  for  Clotilde. 


108  THE   EXILES. 

When  the  latter  entered  the  room,  Virginia  was  just 
giving  Phyllis  a  dress  to  iron  out  for  her  in  the  kitchen.  She 
bolted  the  door  behind  the  girl,  and  saw  that  that  of  her 
dressing-room  was  also  locked.  Then  she  threw  her  arms 
around  her  friend's  neck.  Her  eyes  sparkled,  her  cheeks 
glowed. 

"It  is  he  !"  she  whispered;  "it  is  Berghedorf,  he,  whose 
image  will  live  in  my  heart  forever  1" 

"  Have  you  seen  him  ?" 

"  No,  but  I  have  spoken  with  the  landlord  at  Hermann 
Hall.  Name,  personal  appearance,  age,  all  correspond.  I 
passed  myself  off  as  the  widow  of  one  of  his  acquaintances 
that  had  lived  here,  who  wanted  to  hear  from  him.  I  kept 
my  veil  before  my  face." 

"  You  must  warn  him,  dear  Virginia  !  He  seems  to  be 
treading  a  dangerous  path.  But  beware,  I  beg  you,  of  any 
nearer  intercourse  with  him.  You  would  irritate  your  father 
exceedingly  by  it !" 

"  And  so,  Clotilde,  you  would  have  me  be  unjust  because 
my  father  is  so  ?"  asked  Virginia,  with  flashing  eyes. 

"  I  require  no  injustice  from  you.  But  I  entreat  you,  for 
your  own  sake,  not  to  cling  to  this  fancy,  the  impropriety  of 
which  Berghedorf  himself  seems  to  feel,  so  obstinately.  For 
why,  otherwise,  should  he  keep  so  at  a  distance  from  you  ? 
He  must  have  been  here  some  time,  and  has  not  yet  given 
you  any  sign  of  his  being  near  you." 

A  sharp  pain  played  convulsively  about  Virginia's  lips. 
"Do  you  mean,"  she  said,  slowly,  "that  I  should  look  upon 
that  as  a  sign  that  he — does  not  love  me  ?" 

"  Can  you  not  fancy  that  he  admires  your  beauty,  esti- 
mates your  worth,  is  forcibly  attracted  by  your  amiability, 
your  full,  rich  heart,  but  at  the  same  time  feels  how  dis- 
honourable would  be  the  stranger  who  would  steal  into  a 
rich  man's  dwelling,  and  take  possession,  behind  his  back, 
of  his  best  treasure.  If  I  am  not  very  much  mistaken,  such 


THE   VOLCANO   is   WORKING.  169 

i»the  situation  of  Berghedorfs  heart;  and  it  speaks  for  his 
worth." 

"  And  shall  I — I  must  repeat  my  question  with  a  slight 
variation — shall  I  be  dishonourable  because  he  is  honourable  ? 
Oh  Clotilde  !  you  speak  against  your  own  better  judgment  I 
You  who  despise  wealth,  speak  of  my  wealth,  of  his  poverty  ! 
But  you  can  be  quite  easy.  I  have  not  yet  spoken  to  him, 
nor  even  seen  him.  Indeed,  I  could  not  even  find  out  where 
he  lived.  The  landlord  knew  nothing  about  it  ;  a  phlegmatic, 
thick-headed  German,  who  did  not  let  his  pipe  go  out  while 
I  was  talking  to  him,  and  stared  at  me  with  his  big  blue 
eyes.  How  I  hate  that  apathetic  race  !" 

"Probably  aWestphalian  or  a  Pomeranian,"  replied  Clotilde, 
smiling.  "  But  could  he  tell  you  anything  else  about  Berghe- 
dorf  ?" 

"  Nothing  more  than  that  he  would  be  there  again  to-night. 
There  is  a  meeting  appointed.  I  will  write  to  him.  I  will 
warn  him.  Even  you  can't  say  anything  against  that." 

"  Certainly  not,  Virginia,  if  you  act  in  the  cause  of 
humanity.  Berghedorf  is  a  stranger  here,  perhaps  he  does 
not  know  that  terrible  law  of  your  state,  which  condemns 
every  one  who  speaks  of  freedom  to  the  slaves,  to  the  peniten- 
tiary. But  let  it  be  nothing  more  than  a  letter  of  warning." 

"  My  influence  shall  not  prevent  him  from  doing  right," 
replied  Virginia,  with  some  pride  ;  "  but  I  will  recommend  him 
to  be  careful,  and  make  him  acquainted  with  that  law.  Oh  ! 
why  did  he  have  anything  to  do  with  this  Atkinson,  who, 
with  heedless  audacity,  exasperates  our  best-thinking  men  by 
his  constant  rebellious  ranting  !" 

She  seated  herself  at  her  writing-table,  and  any  one  who 
could  have  observed  her,  as,  with  light,  hasty  strokes,  without 
once  looking  up,  her  cheeks  glowing,  she  filled  more  than 
half  a  sheet,  could  well  see  that  her  whole  soul  was  in 
her  occupation.  She  sealed  the  note  and  addressed  it :  Mr. 
Berghedorf,  Hermann  Hall. 
8 


170  THE   EXILES. 

"  And  now,"  she  said,  rising  and  looking  at  Clotilde  affec- 
tionately, "may  I  count  upon  your  friendship  ?  Will  you  do 
something  for  one  of  your  countrymen  ?  I  fear  that  man 
nearly  recognised  me.  He  will  be  puzzled,  if  you  bring  the 
note,  who  are  just  of  my  size  and  figure,  and  yet  not  the  same. 
Besides,  Alonzo  follows  me  everywhere.  And  I  could  not 
trust  the  note  to  any  one  but  you." 

Clotilde  hesitated.  "  Give  it,  then,"  she  said,  at  length. 
"  I  confess,  I  very  reluctantly  take  a  part  in  this  affair.  It 
seems  to  me  that  for  the  hospitality  with  which  your  father 
has  received  me  into  his  house,  I  owe  him  perfect  openness  in 
my  conduct.  I  shall  not,  indeed,  deny  this  step,  but  I  am 
taking  it  behind  his  back,  and  with  the  wish  that  he  may  not 
hear  of  it,  and  that  is  already  a  kind  of  deceit.  But  one 
thing  I  must  say,"  she  added,  with  decision,  but  taking 
Yirginia's  hand  affectionately  ;  "  if  it  were  a  love-letfer,  not 
all  your  entreaties  could  induce  me  to  carry  it." 

"  It  is  no  love-letter,"  replied  Virginia,  withdrawing  her 
hand  with  haughty  irritation.  "  Clotilde,  do  you  remember 
that  passage  from  Goethe's  Tasso  that  you  read  with  me  once, 
which  I  copied,  because  it  seemed  to  me  so  true  :  '  The  tyranny 
of  friendship,  which  of  all  tyrannies  doth  seem  to  me  the  most 
unbearable.  Thou  thinkest  different,  and  that  alone  makes 
thee  believe  thy  thoughts  the  right  ones  ?' " 

Clotilde  calmly  took  up  her  bonnet  and  cloak,  inwardly 
renewing  the  resolution  not  to  be  the  confidant  of  an  under- 
standing in  which  every  thing  might  be  feared  from  Virginia's 
violent  and  perverse  nature. 

Hermann  Hall  was  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  city  ;  she  had 
not  yet  traversed  half  the  distance,  when  Alonzo  met  her, 
and  was  highly  astonished  to  find  her  in  the  street,  as  she 
very  rarely  went  out.  He  offered  to  accompany  her,  and 
silently  taking  her  permission  for  granted,  turned  back  with 
her.  She  felt  confused.  If  she  herself  had  written  the 
letter  which  was  to  warn  her  countryman,  she  would  not 


THE  VOLCANO   is  WORKING.  171 

have  hesitated  to  acknowledge  it  to  Alonzo,  whom  she  knew 
to  be  so  noble-minded.  But  Virginia  she  could  not  expose. 
She  therefore,  accompanied  by  Alonzo,  entered  the  first 
suitable  store  and  asked  for  black  gloves.  Alonzo  informed 
her  that  she  might  have  obtained  them  much  nearer  their 
house.  There  was  nothing  left  but  to  return  directly  home 
with  him.  Virginia  was  in  consternation  at  her  speedy 
re-appearance.  "  That  unfortunate  man  !"  she  cried,  when 
Clotilde  explained  the  matter  to  her  ;  "  he  is  in  my  way 
in  everything." 

At  dinner  she  was  more  ill-humoured  than  ever  towards 
Alonzo.  Mr.  Castleton,  too,  was  even  less  talkative  than 
usual.  Altogether,  the  dinners  in  this  family  were  indescriba- 
bly tedious  ;  the  conversation  very  rarely  extended  beyond 
certain  general  polite  phrases,  such  as  "  Will  you  take  some 
chicken,  Virginia  ?"  "  Miss  Osten,  will  you  do  me  the  honour 
to  take  wine  with  me  ?" — or,  "  Shall  I  help  you  to  some  peas, 
Papa  ?"  "  I'll  thank  you  for  the  butter,  Alonzo,"  etc.  Or 
there  were  remarks  made  about  the  weather  :  "  It  feels  like 
rain."  "  Don't  it  seem  to  you  as  if  winter  was  beginning  very 
early  this  year,  Sarah  ?"  "  In  Boston  the  thermometer  was 
ten  degrees  below  zero  last  week,  Papa,"  etc. 

This  was  the  usual  table-talk  of  four  persons,  not  one  of 
whom  was  without  mind,  but  who,  with  the  exception  of  Vir- 
ginia, were  entirely  wauting  in  conversational  talent,  so  rare 
among  American  men,  particularly.  At  breakfast,  where  the 
papers  gave  fresh  subjects,  the  conversation  was  a  little  live- 
lier. There  were  fires,  robberies,  shipwrecks  to  be  talked 
about.  The  period  while  Congress  was  in  session  was  particu- 
larly productive. 

To-day,  when  every  heart  was  so  heavy,  even  the  observa- 
tions on  the  weather  were  omitted.  Sarah,  too,  was  full  of 
care,  for  she  had  noticed  her  sister's  excitement  in  the  morning. 

After  dinner,  when  twilight  was  already  near,  Clotilde  stole 
away  once  more,  and  reached  Hermann  Hall  in  safety,  where 


172  THE   EXILES. 

she  gave  the  letter  to  a  German  waiter,  with  the  urgent 
admonition  to  deliver  it  to  Mr.  Berghedorf  immediately.  She 
then  turned  homeward  with  rapid  steps. 

She  had  not  been  on  the  way  but  a  few  minutes,  when  she 
saw  a  procession  coming  up  the  street,  and  was  speedily  sur- 
rounded by  tumult  and  a  crowd  of  people.  Shouts,  yells  and 
groans  sounded  through  the  street.  The  procession  came  from 
the  harbour.  It  consisted  of  the  unhappy  fugitive  slaves,  who 
had  been  found  concealed  in  the  hold  of  a  sloop  from  New 
Bedford  which  had  already  cleared,  and  were 'now  being 
brought  back  to  town,  the  women  with  their  hands  tied  on 
their  backs,  the  men  with  shackles  on  their  hands  and  feet. 
Grief  and  rage  were  depicted  in  the  faces  of  some  ;  others 
were  sobbing  and  moaning,  others  again  looked  straight  before 
them  in  dull  apathy.  The  exultation  of  all  the  low  youth  of 
the  city  accompanied  them  ;  it  was  with  difficulty  that  the 
police  could  keep  off  the  latter,  with  such  arrogance  did  this 
youthful  rabble  conduct  themselves,  in  the  full  consciousness 
of  their  importance  as  heirs  of  American  democracy.  Some 
of  the  older  spectators,  too,  looked  malicious  enough,  most  of 
them  indifferent, — some  few  turned  a  pitying  eye  upon  the 
unfortunate  beings. 

To  be  out  of  the  way  of  the  crowd,  Clotilde  had  stepped 
into  the  door  of  a  store,  which  was  raised  above  the  pavement 
by  a  few  steps.  The  person  who  kept  it,  and  her  assistant, 
had  been  brought  to  the  door  by  curiosity. 

"  That's  Mrs.  Benton's  cook,"  said  the  former,  "  the  one 
with  the  red  turban,  who  is  crying  and  sobbing  so.  She's  the 
most  ungrateful  creature  in  the  world  ;  she  had  a  good  time 
of  it,  and  got  heaps  of  presents.  But  the  love  of  money's 
got  into  the  creatures  ;  she  heard  about  the  high  wages  in 
New  York,  and  for  that  she  forgot  her  duty,  and  what  she 
owes  her  mistress." 

"  Just  see  how  indifferent  and  insolent  that  one  there  at 
the  side  looks,"  observed  the  assistant,  a  pretty,  over-dressed 


THE   VOLCANO   is  WORKING.  173 

girl,  who  was  sending  her  large,  longing  eyes  up  and  down  the 
street  in  search  of  some  acquaintance.  "  These  people  have 
such  dull  feelin's  !» 

"  Good  gracious,  the  children  !  Look  at  those  little  pica- 
ninnies  !  The  idea  of  taking  four  children  along  !  Did  you 
ever  !  As  if  it  was  a  trifle  to  earn  a  living  for  four  children ! 
But  the  stupid  things  don't  think  of  that.  If  their  master 
only  has  the  loss,  they're  contented  !" 

Clotilde  looked  at  the  heart-rending  group  with  deep  com- 
passion. Four  little  black  half-naked  creatures,  the  eldest 
about  eight,  the  youngest  three  years  old,  were  trotting  along 
beside  the  mother,  holding  on  to  her  skirts  and  apron.  The 
woman  was 'a  tall,  noble  figure,  with  melancholy  eyes,  who 
walked  on  in  mute  despair,  not  trusting  herself  even  to  glance 
at  the  poor  little  ones  whom  she  had  vainly  attempted  to  lead 
to  freedom. 

At  this  moment  a  well-dressed  young  man  emerged  from 
the  crowd  and  came  up  the  steps.  His  thumbs  were  hooked 
into  the  armholes  of  his  vest,  and  he  bowed  without  even 
touching  his  hat.  **  •'' 

"  Good  evening,  Miss  Blagden.    How  d'ye  do,  Mrs.  Cook  ?" 

"  Yery  well  !  How  are  you,  Mr.  Taylor  ?  Have  you 
been  to  the  harbour  ?" 

"  Yes,  there  was  fuss  enough  !  It  was  a  capital  joke.  It 
seems  the  black  clouds  were  going  to  overspread  the  sky  of 
my  native  land  ;  but  they  couldn't  come  it  this  time." 

"  You  don't  say  so  !  Were  they  found  in  a  Boston  vessel  ?" 
asked  Miss  Blagden. 

"  Not  exactly.  They  were  in  the  hold  of  a  New  Bedford 
schooner.  It  came  from  Philadelphia,  and  unloaded  here  a 
month  or  two  ago.  A  dirty  hiding-place,  Miss  Blagden  ;  for- 
tunately they  weren't  as  white  as  you,  and  couldn't  get  blacker 
than  they  were  already." 

Both  the  ladies  laughed  at  this  piece  of  wit.  The  Boston 
gentleman  continued  :  "That  queen  of  Sheba  there,  with  the 


174  THE   EXILES. 

gay  turban,  didn't  find  the  place  of  refuge  genteel  enough. 
She'd  stuck  herself  in  an  empty  brandy  barrel.  One  of  the 
accomplices  had  thrown  his  buff-jacket  over  it.  But  Police- 
man Hicks  smelt  a  rat.  He  kicked  the  kiver  off ;  you  can 
imagine  what  a  perfume  rose  up  thereupon  !" 

Miss  Blagden  found  the  young  clerk  too  witty,  and  could 
not  stop  laughing.  But  Mrs.  Cook  asked  again  : 

"  Have  they  got  them  all  ?" 

"All  but  four  or  five,  who  were  silly  enough  to  jump  into 
the  water  rather  than  be  caught.  A  few  of  them  were  pulled 
out,  the  rest  were  drowned.  I  only  wish  they  had  the  rascal 
Atkinson,  for  there's  no  doubt  but  what  he  had  a  share  in  this 
affair  again.  The  captain  has  been  arrested,  and  the  mate 
has  been  taken  up  too.  He  is  a  German.  They'll  have  to 
pay  for  it." 

"  If  the  captain's  a  Yankee,  he'll  talk  his  way  clear.  But 
it  would  be  just  right  for  them  if  their  business  was  stopped. 
I  wish  they'd  be  made  an  example  of.  The  Northern  States 
are  too  bold  entirely.  What  business  have  they  to  meddle 
with  our  affairs  ?  They  might  let.  us  take  care  of  them 
ourselves.  Our  Jupiter  is  a  faithful  fellow,  and  Lucy  really 
seems  to  love  the  children,  but  as  Mr.  Cook  always  says, 
since  these  Abolitionist  vagabonds  squirt  about  their  poison 
every  where,  nobody  can  be  sure  of  their  property  any 
more." 

Meanwhile  the  crowd  had  dispersed,  and  Clotilde,  deeply 
grieved  and  pained  at  what  she  had  heard,  hastened  home. 
At  tea  Mr.  Castleton  was  in  uncommonly  good  spirits  ;  he 
had  talked  with  Alonzo  before  about  the  re-capture  of  the 
slaves  ;  and  as  the  ladies  rather  avoided  than  sought  the 
subject,  it  would  perhaps  not  have  been  mentioned  again,  had 
not  every  visitor  who  came  in  that  evening,  as  well  as  for 
several  days  following,  spoken  of  the  matter,  which  filled 
all  the  papers,  namely  the  result  of  the  examination  of  the 
recaptured  fugitives,  and  the  trial  of  the  captain  and  mate. 


THE   VOLCANO    is   WORKING.  175 

Virginia,  meanwhile,  passed  her  time  in  a  state  of  feverish 
excitement.  Her  eyes  sparkled  with  an  unnatural  fire,  she 
hardly  touched  any  food  at  meals,  a  certain  absence  of  mind 
made  her  silent  and  confused  during  the  morning  calls  of  her 
admirers.  Towards  Phyllis  she  was  unusually  kind  ;  the  girl 
shone  in  silks  and  satins,  and  her  conceited  looks  showed  how- 
vain  she  felt  of  being  so  favoured  by  her  mistress. 

Clotilde  did  not  learn  whether  Virginia  had  ever  received 
an  answer  to  her  note.  She  had  expressed  a  decided  disap- 
probation of  her  love,  and  Virginia  was  too  proud  to  force  her 
confidence  upon  her  or  to  accept  of  her  advice.  The  morning 
after  the  note  was  sent,  Virginia  went  out  again  alone,  which 
was  entirely  contrary  to  her  custom.  This  she  repeated  the 
two  succeeding  days.  The  two  gentlemen  went,  at  that 
time,  to  court,  to  witness  the  trials.  Sarah,  who  could 
not  otherwise  but  have  noticed  her  sister's  passionate  excite- 
ment and  her  strange  behaviour,  was  just  at  this  time  taken 
up  with  a  protracted  meeting  which  her  church  was  wont  to 
appoint  annually  as  a  special  means  of  grace  ;  it  was  combined 
with  redoubled  private  devotions,  and  fasting.  Thus  Sarah 
often  did  not  come  to  table  ;  for  at  such  times,  to  avoid  all 
carnal  and  spiritual  excitement,  she  generally  took  only  a 
cup  of  tea  and  a  cracker  by  herself  in  her  room.  And  she 
was,  besides,  accustomed  to  Virginia's  capriciousness  and 
irritability  ;  whatever  might  strike  her  now  in  that  way, 
could  not  justify  any  conclusion  on  her  part  that  any  thing 
extraordinary  was  going  on. 

Three  painful  days  had  passed  in  this  way,  when  one 
afternoon,  Clotilde  heard  Alonzo,  who  had  been  out,  say 
to  his  uncle  :  "  Well,  the  bird  is  caught  at  last." 

"Who?  Atkinson?" 

"  No,  not  he,  unfortunately,  but  the  German  adventurer 
who  seduced  the  mate.  Better  one  than  none." 

"  Well  enough.  This  case  must  be  made  an  example  of. 
The  rascals  go  too  far.  If  we  let  them  off  this  time  we'll 


176  THE   EXILES. 

have  the  whole  story  over  again  in  less  than  a  month. 
If  hanging  was  the  punishment  for  slave-stealing,  instead 
of  the  penitentiary,  I  bet  these  Northern  pirates  would  have 
had  their  business  stopped  long  ago." 

It  was  true.  Berghedorf  had  been  arrested,  and  put 
to  trial,  on  the  accusation  of  having  seduced  slaves  to  desert 
their  rightful  owners.  It  was  not  long  before  Clotilde,  who 
since  her  own  misfortune  had  not  been  so  drawn  out  of 
herself,  learned  all  the  particulars  of  this  painful  occurrence. 

From  the  statements  of  the  slaves,  drawn  from  them 
by  skillful  cross-questioning,  it  appeared  that  for  some  time 
past  a  well-dressed  man,  who  called  himself  Smith,  and  was 
from  Boston,  as  they  thought,  had  often  had  a  good  deal 
to  do  with  one  or  the  other  of  them :  he  had,  for  instance, 
come  to  the  stable  where  Pompey,  Mrs.  Dunning's  coachman, 
was  rubbing  down  the  horses,  and  talked  to  him  about 
his  wife  who  had  been  sold  to  Alabama,  and  asked  him 
to  tell  him  anything  else  that  troubled  him.  The  same 
gentleman  had  talked  to  Esther,  a  laundress,  when  she  had 
brought  his  clothes  to  his  room  ;  he  had  proposed  to  both 
secretly  to  get  together  those  of  their  friends,  who,  like  them, 
were  tired  of  their  miserable  life,  and  wanted  to  become  free 
citizens  of  the  United  States.  As  soon  as  they  would  be 
ready,  he  promised  to  procure  them  an  opportunity  of  reach- 
ing the  free  states.  After  repeated  delays,  postponements, 
and  disappointments  of  their  hopes,  the  night  of  the  fourth  of 
March  had  at  length  been  fixed  upon  for  their  flight ;  they 
had  stolen  to  the  harbour  one  by  one,  or  as  it  was  most 
convenient,  and  had  been  taken  in  boats  waiting  for  them  at 
the  different  points  to  which  their  deliverer  had  ordered  them, 
to  the  schooner,  which  was  already  lying  out  at  sea,  and  was 
to  sail  the  same  day.  Some  business,  the  nature  of  which 
they  could  not  tell,  had  taken  the  captain  on  shore  once 
more  ;  in  his  stead  the  police  had  come  in  the  afternoon,  to 
examine  the  vessel.  The  absence  of  the  captain  had  forced 


THE   VOLCANO   is   WORKING.  177 

the  mate,  whom,  when  they  saw  the  boat  with  the  police 
coming,  they  had  begged  on  their  knees  to  set  sail,  to  lie 
still.  He  had  done  his  best  to  conceal  them  by  stowing 
them  away  in  the  hold  and  in  empty  barrels,  where  they 
would  perhaps  not  have  been  discovered,  had  not  one  of 
the  sailors  betrayed  them. 

The  description  which  they  gave  of  the  man  who  had 
been  at  the  head  of  the  enterprise,  confirmed  the  supposition 
that  it  had  been  Atkinson.  But  he  had  not  made  his 
appearance  on  the  night  of  the  fourth  of  March.  The  mate 
himself,  with  one  of  the  sailors,  had  rowed  them  out  to  the 
vessel.  Another  good  gentleman  had  been  at  the  shore, 
who  had  talked  a  strange  language  with  the  mate.  He 
had  very  kindly  helped  the  little  children  into  the  boat ;  and 
when  he  had  seen  how  one  young  woman,  who  had  not  had 
time,  in  her  flight,  to  think  of  warm  clothing,  was  shivering 
and  trembling  with  cold  in  her  thin  house-dress,  he  had 
taken  off  his  own  overcoat  and  thrown  it  over  her  shoulders. 

A  messenger  was  immediately  sent  to  the  ship  for  the 
overcoat,  which  the  woman  had  left  behind,  so  as  not  to 
betray  her  deliverer. 

The  captain,  a  short,  thick-set  man,  with  a  wrinkled, 
sour  face,  who  did  not  seem  at  all  put  out  of  countenance 
by  the  danger  which  threatened  him,  stated  that  he  had 
brought  coal  from  Philadelphia,  and  waited  so  long  for  a 
return-cargo,  the  want  of  which,  in  consequence  of  his  con- 
tract with  the  ship-owner,  was  a  great  loss  to  him,  that  at 
length,  tired  of  waiting,  he  had  resolved  to  return  without 
it,  when,  a  few  days  before,  his  mate  had  proposed  to 
him  to  take  a  number  of  passengers,  for  whom  a  high  fare 
had  been  promised  him,  and  whom  he  had  agreed  to  forward 
to  the  ship  himself,  without  the  captain's  having  anything 
more  to  do  with  the  affair  than  to  receive  the  money  for 
their  passage.  He  had  not  asked  their  names,  or  where 
they  came  from,  nor  had  he  cared  whether  they  were  black 
8* 


178  THE   EXILES. 

or  white  ;  he  had  gone  on  shore  once  more  to  make  sure  of 
the  passage-money  in  advance  ;  a  check  for  it  on  a  house  in 
New  England  had  been  given  him,  but  he  had  preferred  having 
it  in  cash.  As  he  had  received  passage-money  for  them,  he 
had  not  thought  of  his  passengers  being  fugitive  slaves  ;  on 
the  contrary,  he  had  felt  quite  sure  that  they  were  worthless 
subjects  whom  their  masters  had  freed,  and  were  sending  out 
of  the  country  because  the  law  forbade  their  manumitting 
them  in  this  state. 

The  mate  was  a  fine-looking,  fair-haired,  thoughtless 
young  man,  who,  by  his  consternation  and  violent  emotion, 
awakened  the  interest  of  the  audience.  Unacquainted  with 
the  laws  of  South  Carolina,  he  had  hardly  known  what  he 
did,  when,  listening  to  the  voice  of  humanity,  he  joined  in 
the  adventure.  "He  had  always,"  he  said,  "pitied  the 
poor  negroes,  as  long  as  he  had  been  in  the  country  •  the 
free  ones  were  badly  enough  off,  but  the  slaves  were  only 
looked  upon  as  beasts  of  burden.  Who  could  blame  him 
then " 

He  was  ordered  by  the  judge  to  hold  his  tongue. 

The  honest  fellow  tried  in  vain  to  implicate  in  his  state- 
ments no  one  who  was  not  yet  before  the  court.  The 
skill  of  the  lawyer  who  examined  him  soon  drew  from  him, 
that  if  he  had  not  received  his  ideas  of  slavery  in  Hermann 
Hall,  they  had  at  least  been  made  clear  to  him  there,  and 
that  the  plan  of  aiding  in  the  flight  of  the  slaves,  (among 
whom  was  one  who  was  already  sold,  to  be  taken  to  Louis- 
iana, away  from  his  wife  and  children,  and  a  girl,  whom  her 
mistress  whipped  every  day  with  her  own  hand,)  had  origi- 
nated with  the  orator  of  Hermann  Hall. 

And  when,  finally,  the  above-mentioned  coat  arrived,  and 
an  otherwise  unimportant  note  was  found  in  one  of  its  pockets, 
directed  to  "  Mr.  Berghedorf,"  a  policeman  was  immediately 
sent  to  arrest  him. 


THK   ERUPTION   OF   THE   VOLCANO.          179 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  ERUPTION  OF  THE  VOLCANO. 

THE  intelligence  of  the  young  German's  arrest  called  forth 
a  variety  of  sensations  in  the  Castleton  family.  While 
the  two  gentlemen  gave  loud  utterance  to  their  pleasure  at  the 
possibility  of  calling  to  an  account  at  least  one  of  the  instiga- 
tors of  this  shameful  man-stealing — for  as  such  alone  did  they 
regard  it — Clotilde's  fear  and  solicitude  were  increased.  And 
Sarah  now  for  the  first  time  heard  the  name  of  "  Berghedorf  " 
mentioned  in  this  affair,  and  began,  for  Virginia's  sake,  to  feel 
warmly  interested  in  a  matter  of  which,  until  now,  she  had 
hardly  taken  any  notice. 

But  Virginia, — who  can  describe  the  state  of  poor  Vir- 
ginia's mind  ?  She,  who  knew  the  whole  force  of  the  law, 
who  had  often  with  indifference,  sometimes  even  with  satis- 
faction, seen  it  enacted  in  all  its  severity,  she  now  heard, 
with  terror,  the  thunder  rolling  over  the  head  of  the  man  she 
loved.  What  insanity  had  deterred  him  from  flying  while 
there  was  time  !  A  false  generosity  must  have  made  him  un- 
willing to  escape  from  danger  while  the  young  mate,  who  had 
acted  at  his  instigation,  through  his  influence,  was  still  sur- 
rounded by  it !  Now  it  was  too  late.  For  a  short  time  she 
was  as  if  paralyzed  with  horror.  She  did  not  go  out  in  the 
morning  any  more.  She  locked  herself  in  her  room  ;  she 
devoured  with  her  eyes  the  papers  which  contained  the  report 
of  the  trial,  and  whenever  her  father  or  Alonzo  came  home, 
she  listened  eagerly,  though  with  inward  rage,  to  each  of 


180  THE   EXILES. 

their  words,  to  hear  if  one  of  them  mentioned  her  lover.  Her 
state  was  a  terrible  one.  Her  father  and  cousin  inquired 
anxiously  whether  she  were  ill ;  she  confessed  to  a  slight  fever, 
and  this  had  to  serve  as  a  pretext  for  declining  to  see  any  one 
who  did  not  belong  to  the  family. 

Sarah,  after  consulting  with  Clo tilde,  resolved  to  speak 
to  her  father.  She  disclosed  to  him  that  she,  as  well  as  her 
sister,  knew  the  stranger  now  on  trial,  that  he  had  been  Vir- 
ginia's teacher,  and  that  she  was  therefore  of  course  much 
interested  in  him.  "  If,  dear  Papa,"  she  said,  "  you  do  not 
want  to  pain  our  poor  Virginia  very  much — and  I  know  you 
will  not  wish  to  do  that — I  fervently  entreat  you  to  use  all 
your  influence  to  turn  the  verdict  into  '  Not  Guilty,'  or,  if 
that  is  impossible,  to  let  him  escape." 

While  Sarah  was  speaking,  the  unwelcome  truth  had 
penetrated  her  father's  mind  with  a  cutting  force.  Now  he 
understood  all :  her  violent  predilection  for  the  German  lan- 
guage and  music,  her  new  ideas  of  liberty,  equality,  and  the 
rights  of  man,  her  sudden  reluctance  to  marry  her  cousin,  and 
her  present  feverish  excitement.  The  impression  which  Sarah's 
disclosure  made  upon  her  father  was  totally  different  from 
what  she  had  hoped.  He  fancied,  indeed,  that  he  looked 
deeper  into  Virginia's  heart  than  her  sister  had  done.  "  This 
passionate  nature  will  either  yield  itself  entirely,  or  not  at 
all,"  he  thought.  "  As  long  as  this  adventurer  is  free,  she 
has  still  hope.  We'll  see  if  she  likes  him  still  when  he  has 
worn  a  convict's  jacket  for  a  few  years,  and  had  his  head 
shaved.  His  shame  must  make  her  despise  him,  or  she  is  not 
my  daughter." 

A  silent  fury  was  boiling  within  him,  while  Sarah  spoke. 
He  turned  pale  and  was  obliged  to  sit  down. 

"  I  see,  dear  Papa,"  Sarah  continued,  "  the  matter  agitates 
you.  But  the  Lord  will  avert  this  misfortune  from  us,  if  we 
pray  to  him.  And  I  really  think  it  is  more  Virginia's  fancy 
that  is  active  in  this  matter,  than  her  heart.  But  a  harsh  treat- 


THE   ERUPTION    OF    THE   VOLCANO.  181 

ment  of  this  man  would  only  exasperate  her  and  strengthen 
her  feelings  for  him.  It  therefore  seems  to  me  highly  advisa- 
ble that  yon  try  whether  the  person  who  has  charge  of  the 
prisoners  could  not  be  induced  to  let  him  escape  before  his 
case  is  decided." 

Mr.  Castleton  restrained  his  anger.  "You  are  mistaken, 
Sarah,"  he  said,  "in  ascribing  this  degree  of  influence  to  me; 
and  still  more  so  in  believing  that  I  would  use  it  against  the 
administration  of  justice.  The  matter  may  take  its  course; 
and  I  hope  that  Virginia  or  any  one  of  my  daughters  is  too 
ladylike  in  her  feelings  to  suffer  even  her  fancy  to  be  occu- 
pied with  an  adventurer  who  has  to  earn  his  living  in  a 
strange  land  by  giving  lessons." 

And  with  this  he  left  her,  firmly  resolved  to  do  everything 
in  his  power  towards  bringing  Berghedorfs  guilt  to  light, 
perhaps  even  with  the  obscure  intention  of  making  this  guilt 
heavier,  if  possible,  partly  to  give  the  hated  Abolitionists  an 
example,  partly  to  avert  the  threatening  degradation  from 
his  own  house. 

Virginia  was  not  a  little  incensed  when  she  heard  of 
Sarah's  fruitless  attempt.  "  I  wish,  Sarah,"  she  said,  with  a 
proud  disdainful  mien, '"you  would  let  me  take  care  of  my 
own  affairs.  It  was  foolish  in  you  to  think  my  father  capable 
of  judgment  in  a  matter  in  which  he  is  so  entirely  partial. 
And  even  putting  that  aside,  there  was  nothing  to  hope  for. 
He  is  Berghedorfs  enemy.  Yes,  Clotilde,  yes,  Sarah,  you 
may  look  at  me  in  surprise.  Berghedorf  has  confided  to  me 
that  my  father  is  his  enemy,  must  necessarily  be  so;  that  it 
was  for  this  that  he  could  not  enter  his  house,  that  it  was  for 
this  that  he  had  to  remain  at  the  door  of  the  paradise  which 
my  love  opened  to  him." 

"So  you  have  seen  him,  sister?"  said  Sarah,  reproach- 
fully. 

"  And  what  if  I  have  ?  Shall  I  too  be  sacrificed  to  con- 
venience, like  my  mother  ?  For  how  could  her  glowing  heart 


182  THE   EXILES. 

ever  have  loved  that  cold,  selfish  tyrant,  my  father  ?  Yes, 
Berghedorf  is  right,  he  can  expect  nothing  but  hatred  and 
persecution  from  him." 

"  And  why  should  Papa  hate  him,  dear  Virginia  ?  Your 
excitement  makes  you  unjust  towards  your  own  kindred." 

"There  is  a  veil  of  mystery  over  that.  A  mysterious 
darkness  hangs  around  BerghedorPs  whole  nature  ;  he  is  not 
what  he  seems.  Oh  !  he  will  come  out  of  this  darkness  in 
glory,  and  put  to  shame  his  opponents  !" 

A  deep  anxiety  seized  Clotilde  as  Virginia  spoke  these 
words.  She  feared  more  than  ever  that  the  proud,  beautiful 
girl,  carried  away  by  her  enthusiasm  for  everything  that  was 
strange  and  extraordinary,  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  an  ad- 
venturer. She  gathered  from  what  she  said,  that,  since  she 
had  known  of  Berghedorf  s  being  in  town,  there  had  been  a 
private  understanding  between  him  and  her.  Perhaps  her 
solicitude  would  have  been  still  greater,  had  she  been  longer 
in  the  country,  and  known  how  many  a  fair  American  of  re- 
spectable family  has  already  allowed  herself  to  be  tempted 
by  the  noble  title  and  high  rank,  genuine  or  false,  of  a 
stranger,  to  listen  to  a  declaration  in  broken  English  ;  had 
she  known  how  quickly,  indeed,  the  ignorance  of  the  Republi- 
cans of  European  relations,  immediately  connects  any  name 
that  is  at  all  high-sounding,  with  the  highest  in  rank,  that 
is,  with  princes  and  kings. 

Meanwhile  BerghedorPs  trial  threw  all  Charleston  into 
agitation.  The  noble  presence  of  the  stranger,  the  refinement 
of  his  speech,  and  his  fascinating  grace  of  manner,  were  fitted 
to  rouse  the  interest  of  the  public  for  him,  and  would  perhaps 
have  inclined  his  judges  favourably,  had  not  the  crime  of  which 
he  was  accused,  namely,  that  of  alienating  slaves  from  their 
rightful  owners,  awakened  too  strong  a  prejudice  against  him 
beforehand,  particularly  as,  through  an  influence,  the  nature 
of  which  no  one  could  exactly  tell,  the  conviction  soon  grew 
general  that  any  clemency  in  such  a  striking  case  would  un- 


THE  ERUPTION  OF  THE  VOLCANO.     188 

avoidably  have  for  consequence  the  repetition  of  offences 
which  threatened  to  destroy  the  whole  structure  of  the 
government-regulations  of  the  South,  indeed,  that  such  clem- 
ency would  already  in  itself  undermine  them.  It  is  true, 
the  trial  made  it  evident  that  Berghedorf  had  had  nothing 
to  do  with  the  actual  seduction  of  the  slaves  ;  that  he  had 
not  even  seen  them  until  they  reached  the  shore,  but  only 
taken  the  matter  in  hand  and  communicated  with  his  coun- 
tryman the  mate,  when  Atkinson,  excited  almost  to  insanity 
by  the  repeated  disappointment  of  his  hopes,  had  found  him- 
self without  the  means  of  bringing  about  their  flight ;  but 
this  one  thing  was  certain,  that  he  had  been  one  of  the 
actual  instruments  by  means  of  which  they  had  effected  their 
escape,  and  that  the  mate  had  received  from  his  hand  the 
check  which  was  to  pay  the  captain  for  their  passage. 

Besides  this,  he  gave  free  expression  to  sentiments  which 
created  a  violent  displeasure  in  the  jury  as  well  as  the  judges, 
and  which  made  it  impossible  for  his  counsel  to  carry  out  his 
defence,  which  was  based  upon  the  foreigner's  ignorance  of 
the  laws  of  the  land.  They  were  the  sentiments  of  a  man 
who  demanded  freedom,  not  as  the  privilege  and  prerogative 
of  a  certain  colour,  but  for  the  whole  human  race.  A  dis- 
satisfied murmur  ran  through  the  assembly,  and  from  the 
galleries  cries  were  heard  of:  "A  rope  for  the  confounded 
Abolitionist  !" — and — "  If  you  get  off  here,  there's  a  coat  of 
tar  and  feathers  waiting  for  you  elsewhere  !" — so  that  the 
presiding  judge,  however  these  sentiments  might  agree  with 
his  own,  threatened  repeatedly  to  have  the  galleries  cleared. 

Alonzo  alone  was  so  influenced  by  the  deep  impression 
which  the  person  of  the  accused  made  upon  him,  that  he 
forgave  him  his  heretical  opinions. 

"  Your  countryman's  views  are  erroneous,"  he  said  to 
Clotilde.  "  I  know  they  are  yours  too,  but  they  are  based 
on  ignorance  of  the  country  and  the  circumstances.  Slavery 
may  be  an  evil  in  some  respects,  but  it  is  not  wrong.  Not 


184  THE   EXILES. 

more  so  than  to  acknowledge  a  king,  or  the  difference  of  rank 
in  general.  God  has  not  made  all  men  alike,  as  your  super- 
ficial philosophers  assert.  Are  there  not  intelligent  and 
stupid  people,  beautiful  and  ugly  ones  ?  Do  you  not  find 
the  poor  and  the  rich  in  every  country  ?  Why  not  then 
freemen  and  slaves  ?  Berghedorf  is  a  sophist,  a  visionary  ; 
but  he  stands  up  for  his  bad  cause  like  a  hero.  That  makes 
me  admire  him.  Indeed,  it  is  strange — it  seems  to  me  some- 
tunes  as  if  I  could  love  this  stranger,  the  violator  of  the  law, 
the  underminer  of  public  peace,  just  as  he  stands  there.  I 
only  wish  the  jury  would  see  him  through  my  eyes.  But 
there  is  no  hope  of  that." 

The  terrible  day  of  decision  drew  near.  The  captain,  an 
old  fox,  who  knew  his  men,  and  knew  how  to  treat  them, 
had  been  acquitted  of  the  main  guilt,  as  unaware  of  the 
character  and  station  of  his  passengers,  and  was  let  off  with 
a  fine  of  eight  hundred  dollars.  The  mate  had  a  sort  of 
excuse,  besides  his  youth,  in  his  ignorance  of  the  laws.  He 
too  was  punished  only  by  a  moderate  fine  and  the  order  never 
to  enter  the  state  of  South  Carolina  again.  The  people,  who, 
during  the  whole  trial,  had  surrounded  the  doors  of  the  court- 
house, and  nearly  broken  down  the  galleries,  murmured,  and 
threw  some  rotten  eggs  from  the  galleries,  and  outside  some 
stones  at  the  two  sailors,  when  the  police-officer  led  them  off. 

The  whole  horror  of  judgment  was  turned  upon  the  third 
prisoner.  The  jury  were  unanimous  in  their  awful  verdict  of 
"  Guilty  !"  and  Berghedorf  was  sentenced  to  the  penitentiary 
and  hard  labour  for  ten  years.  The  crowd  in  the  galleries 
broke  out  into  a  wild  hurpah  and  shouting,  which  resounded 
from  the  excited  mass  around  the  doors,  in  stunning,  terrible 
echo.  The  prisoner,  during  these  coarse  yells  and  screams, 
laid  his  hand  upon  his  eyes  for  a  moment ;  a  cold  sweat 
broke  out  upon  his  pale,  noble  brow. 

But  it  seemed  as  if  this  awful  moment  had  suddenly 
quelled  the  fury  of  their  passion.  While  the  trial  lasted, 


THE   ERUPTION   OF  THE   VOLCANO.  185 

the  police,  in  leading  the  prisoner  to  and  from  the  court,  had 
hardly  been  able  to  shield  him  from  knocks,  blows,  and  stones, 
dealt  out  to  him  by  the  mob  ;  now,  the  satisfied  rabble 
quietly  suffered  the  unfortunate  man,  who  passed  his  eye 
over  them  with  a  look  of  indescribable  melancholy,  to  pass 
through  their  crowded  ranks  unmolested,  as,  with  his  hands 
chained,  he  was  led  to  the  carriage  which  was  to  take  him, 
for  the  present,  back  to  the  prison. 

An  anxious,  sultry  atmosphere  hung  over  the  whole  house 
at  the  Castletons',  when  the  intelligence,  though  hardly  un- 
expected, struck  it  like  a  heavy  clap  of  thunder.  Mr.  Castle- 
ton,  whistling  softly  but  unceasingly,  paced  up  and  down  the 
room  with  immense  strides.  Alonzo  looked  concerned. 
Sarah  was  weeping,  and  Clotilde  felt  as  if  the  cloud  had 
broken  over  her  own  head.  The  unhappy  Virginia  had 
locked  herself  into  her  room  and  refused  admittance  to  every 
one. 

Contrary  to  the  expectations  of  all,  she  came  to  dinner,  a 
few  hours  later.  She  appeared1  less  excited  than  before,  and 
her  whole  manner  was  so  calm,  that  her  father,  who  was 
secretly  much  agitated,  took  courage. 

"  Papa,"  said  Virginia,  "  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  pay 
my  aunt  in  New  York  a  visit.  I  regret  very  much  that  the 
steamboat  goes  only  twice  a  week,  and  particularly  that  it 
goes  just  to-night.  I  don't  like  to  wait  three  whole  days." 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  welcome  to  Mr.  Castleton. 
He  had  thought  with  some  dread  of  the  coming  weeks  and 
Virginia's  angry  and  sorrowful  state  of  mind,  and  of  the 
shadow  which  it  was  wont  .to  cast  upon  his  whole  house.  In 
New  York  she  had  the  best  means  of  diverting  her  thoughts. 
Balls,  parties,  the  opera,  and  above  all,  Stewart's  and  Beck's, 
and  all  the  other  brilliant  Broadway  stores.  "  The  poor 
girl  sha'n't  want  money  for  any  of  the  fine  things  she  wishes 
for,"  he  thought.  It  was  a  good  sign  that  she  herself  sought 
an  opportunity  of  diverting  her  mind. 


186  THE  EXILES. 

"  I  have  no  objection,"  he  said,  "  only  don't  stay  too  long. 
It's  a  pity  you  can't  get  ready  to-day.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Phillips 
are  going  this  evening,  so  you  would  be  sure  of  good  com- 
pany." 

"  I  fear  I  could  not  contrive  to  prepare  for  to-night  ;" 
said  Virginia,  with  affected  carelessness. 

Clotilde  hardly  believed  her  ears.  Alonzo,  who  had 
changed  colour  when  Virginia  spoke  of  going  away,  asked, 
as  they  rose  from  table  :  "  May  I  accompany  you  to  New 
York,  cousin  ?" 

"  I  would  prefer  to  have  you  come  for  me,  cousin.  I 
don't  intend  to  stay  longer  than  the  end  of  May.  You 
might  come  before  that,  and  enjoy  yourself  there  with  me 
awhile  before  we  go  home  together.  You  know  you  were 
saying  the  other  day  that  you  ought  to  go  to  Tallahasota  for 
a  time,  soon,  and  your  other  plantations  in  Louisiana  won't 
thrive  exactly,  either,  if  they  are  without  their  master,  and 
left  to  the  care  of  the  overseers  all  the  year  round." 

There  was  something  in  this  carefulness  that  flattered 
Alonzo's  hopes.  He  hesitated — "But  you  can't  make  the 
journey  all  alone,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,"  she  replied,  "  by  next  Saturday  we  will  hear  of 
some  acquaintance  going  North.  And  if  not,  I  shall  have  to 
ask  you  to  escort  me,  after  all." 

Full  of  joy,  he  was  about  to  assure  her  of  his  readiness  ; 
but  she  turned  coolly  away  from  him,  and  said  to  Clotilde  : 
"  Have  you  a  few  moments'  time  for  me,  Miss  Osten  ?" 

There  was  something  strangely  cold  in  Virginia's  manner  ; 
she  who  was  all  life,  all  grace,  appeared  actually  stiff  to-day  ; 
it  seemed  as  if  she  wished  to  curb  in  her  inward  restlessness 
by  a  constrained  deportment  and  slow  movements.  An 
uneasy,  hidden  fire  glowed  in  her  eyes,  which  looked  straight 
before  them.  Clotilde  was  suddenly  seized  with  a  horrible 
suspicion  that  she  was  becoming  insane.  It  was  with  an 
anxious  heart  that  she  followed  her  to  her  room. 


THE   ERUPTION   OF   THE   VOLCANO.          187 

When  they  had  reached  it,  Virginia  immediately  locked 
the  door  behind  her,  and  placed  herself  resolutely  before  Clo- 
tilde.  Her  eye  shone  again  with  its  natural  brilliancy,  only 
that  its  lively  fire  was  increased  almost  to  wildness. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  me,  Miss  Osten  ?  Do  you  too 
suppose  me  to  be  the  miserable  creature  for  which  they  down- 
stairs take  me  ?  For  the  brainless  being  who  is  going  to 
delight  in  the  jingling  and  tinkling  of  the  world,  while  tyran- 
nic power  treads  the  noblest  under  foot,  loads  the  dearest 
with  wanton  insult  and  shame  ?  You,  who  say  that  you  have 
loved,  can  you  not  understand  a  heart  that  would  do  more  for 
the  object  of  its  love  than  weep  ?  Are  you  too  cowardly,  too 
intimidated  by  your  misfortune,  to  help  me  rescue  my  beloved 
from  this  boundless  ignominy  ?" 

Clotilde  looked  upon  the  despairing  girl  with  deep  compas- 
sion. "  Speak,  poor  Virginia,"  she  said,  and  tears  gushed 
from  her  eyes.  "  What  tan  I  do  for  you  ?  What  for  that 
unhappy  man  ?  Could  it  be  possible  to  save  him  ?" 

Virginia  hung  upon  her  neck.  Torrents  of  scalding  tears 
lightened  the  poor  heart.  "Oh,  Clotilde,"  she  sobbed,  "be 
you  my  friend  1  Sarah  can  only  pray  ;  Sarah  cannot  love  ; 
she  cannot  understand  this  burning,  longing  heart !  Oh  !  do 
you  help  me  1" 

"  Tell  me  then,  Virginia,  what  can  I  do  for  the  poor  con- 
demned man  ?  Do  you  know  a  way  of  liberating  him  ?  Tell 
me,  you  see  me  ready  for  everything.  I  do  not  lack  courage." 

"  Thanks,  thanks,  my  Clotilde  !  Yes,  I  know  that  you 
have  a  strong  heart,  a  noble  one.  See,"  she  said,  unlocking 
a  drawer,  and  taking  out  a  small  package,  "  I  am  not  unpre- 
pared ;  I  foresaw  the  terrible  truth — no,  not  foresaw  it,  but 
thought  it  possible,  for  what  is  not  possible  in  this  land  of 
slavery  and  bloodthirsty  arbitrariness  ?" 

She  opened  the  package  ;  it  contained  a  sailor's  dress,  of 
fine  material,  which  Alonzo  had  worn  the  winter  before  at  a 
fancy-ball,  and  had  left  behind.  The  jacket  of  blue  cloth  and 


188  THE   EXILES. 

the  wide  linen  trowsers  were  smoothly  folded  ;  the  broad  hat 
was  pressed  fourfold  in  a  regular  form,  so  that  by  some 
smoothing,  pulling  and  stretching  it  could  easily  be  restored  to 
its  original  shape.  There  was  also  a  silk  rope-ladder,  a  file,  a 
crowbar,  and  a  knife.  Virginia  had  succeeded  in  obtaining 
these  articles  by  degrees,  by  stealth  and  cunning,  during  Ber- 
ghedorf  's  trial. 

"  My  plan,"  she  said  more  calmly,  "  is  this  :  You  go,  when 
it  begins  to  grow  dark,  to  the  jail,  and  induce  the  jailer,  who 
does  not  know  you,  who  has  never  seen  you,  to  let  you,  the 
prisoner's  countrywoman,  his  relative,  his  sister  you  can  call 
yourself,  see  him  once  more.  To-morrow  the  barbarians  are 
going  to  take  him  off  already.  I  do  not  think  the  jailer  will 
refuse  you  ;  he  certainly  will  not  resist  the  persuasion  of  some 
bank-notes.  You  give  Berghedorf  these  clothes,  these  tools, 
this  pocket-book,  and — this  letter."  She  took  out  of  the 
drawer  a  pocket-book  thickly  filled  with  bank-notes,  and  a 
sealed  letter.  "  Oh  Clotilde  !  would  that  my  own  hand  might 
give  him  the  instruments  for  his  escape  !  But  the  jailer  would 
recognise  me.  I  have  not  the  pretext  of  being  his  country- 
woman, and  besides  this  my  father  watches  me  too  closely 
since  Sarah's  forwardness  has  put  him  on  the  track." 

"  But  what  is  to  become  of  him  when  he  has  succeeded  in 
his  escape  ?  Your  whole  state  is  a  prison  for  him." 

"  You  are  right.  All  the  slave  states  are  so.  He  must 
therefore  go  away  from  here,  go  quickly.  The  Wilmington 
boat  leaves  every  morning  at  five  o'clock.  It  is  still  dark  at 
that  time.  In  the  darkness  he  can  reach  the  boat.  It  will  be 
far  on  its  way  when  the  jailer  opens  the  cells  and  discovers  his 
flight.  In  Wilmington  he  must  take  the  cars,  and  then  go 
on,  still  on,  till  he  is  on  free  soil.  He  will  not  be  safe  before 
he  reaches  Philadelphia.  He  can  reach  it  in  sixty  to  seventy 
hours.  Go  now,  Clotilde,  go  for  God's  sake  !  This  letter 
contains  all  the  directions." 

"Well  then,  Virginia,"  said  Clotilde  firmly,  "I  will  and 


THE  ERUPTION  OF  THE  VOLCANO.    189 

must  do  my  best  to  save  the  noble  man  from  this  terrible, 
degrading  punishment.  But  what  will  become  of  me  ?  Will 
not  your  father's  wrath  fall  upon  me,  the  vengeance  of  the 
law,  too  ?  Will  it  remain  a  secret  that  I  brought  him  the 
means  of  escape  ?" 

"  Oh  Clotilde,  fly  with  me,  come  with  me  !  I  shall  be 
gone  before  his  flight  is  discovered.  Do  you  not  guess  ?  My 
intention  of  waiting  till  Saturday  is  merely  a  pretence  ;  in  a 
few  hours  I  shall  suddenly  change  my  mind,  and  declare  that 
I  will  start  to-day,  so  as  to  have  the  Phillips'  company.  I 
shall  quickly  get  ready  a  travelling-bag,  and  order  Phyllis  to 
pack  my  trunks  and  send  them  after  me  by  the  next  steamer. 
Oh  come  with  me  !  Come  with  me  to  Philadelphia,  where 
the  arms  of  love  will  receive  me  !" 

"  How,  Yirginia,  do  I  understand  you  aright  ?" 

"  Do  you,  too,  think  I  am  going  to  seek  amusement  at 
New  York  ?  The  boat  stops  at  Norfolk.  I  shall  find  a  pre- 
text for  landing  there — a  friend  to  visit,  relations,  I  don't 
know  what !  From  there  a  steamboat  goes  up  the  Chesa- 
peake daily,  and  a  short  day's  journey  will  take  me  to  Phila- 
delphia. Once  more,  this  letter  tells  all." 

"And  so  you  are  going  to  fly,  to  leave  your  father's  house 
secretly,  Yirginia  ?  And  your  reputation  ?  What  will  the 
world  say  ?  What  will  your  father  feel  ?" 

"  My  father  is  a  tyrant,"  replied  Yirginia,  and  her  eyes 
flashed  again  with  anger  and  impatience  ;  "  he  wants  to  make 
me  unhappy.  He  knows  that  I  adore  Berghedorf,  and  there- 
fore he  persecutes  him,  the  powerful  the  weak,  the  fortunate 
the  unfortunate  !  Oh,  it  is  terrible  !  And  my  reputation  ? 
Just  for  that,  Clotilde,  do  you  come  with  me,  be  my  friend 
and  the  guardian  of  my  honour  !  Oh  come,  dearest  Clotilde  !" 

"  It  would  hardly  be  possible,"  answered  Clotilde,  who,  in 
her  inmost  heart,  inclined  to  the  proposal,  casting  a  hasty 
glance  at  the  clock.  "  Our  time  is  short.  If  you  are  really 
going  to-night,  you  will  hardly  be  here  yet  when  I  return. 


190  THE   EXILES. 

But,  dearest  Virginia,  consider  well  what  you  are  about  to 
do  !" 

"All  has  been  considered,  all  is  decided.  One  thing  more, 
Clotilde  !  What  if  you  should  fly  with  Berghedorf  ?  Yes, 
that  is  the  best,  you  must  fly  with  him  !  Show  him  the  way, 
be  his  guide  !  He  is  thoughtless,  inexperienced  ;  you  are 
careful,  prudent  !  He  will  be  far,  far  less  liable  to  be  discov- 
ered if  you  are  with  him  1  Wait  for  me  in  Philadelphia, 
dearest  friend  ;  be  beside  me  in  the  most  important  hour  of 
my  life  !  But  it  is  growing  dark  ;  hasten,  Clotilde  !  I  fear 
they  will  not  let  you  in  in  the  evening.  Save  the  happiness 
of  my  life,  dearest  friend  !  My  eternal,  fervent  thanks  shall 
be  yours  !" 

Clotilde,  her  heart  throbbing  with  various  anxious  sensa- 
tions, took  the  clothes,  lifted  her  dress,  and,  with  trembling 
hands,  fastened  them  under  it,  one  by  one  ;  even  the  hat  was 
disposed  of  in  this  way,  which,  together  with  the  cloth  jacket, 
gave  her  slender  figure  the  appearance  of  a  portly  though  not 
over-fleshy  person.  Her  cloak  concealed  everything  still  more 
effectually.  The  tools  and  the  rope-ladder  filled  the  wide 
pockets  of  the  sailors'  clothes.  The  pocket-book  and  letter 
she  did  not  put  in  her  own  pocket,  but  in  a  little  bag,  which 
she  likewise  concealed  under  her  upper  garments,  around  her 
waist.  Virginia  helped  her  ;  indeed,  she  had  to  do  the  most, 
for  Clotilde  was  no  less  agitated  than  she.  There  was  a  ter- 
rible confusion  in  her  brain.  What  an  enterprise  was  she  pre- 
paring for  !  To  what  situations,  what  adventures,  did  she 
expose  herself  !  And  if  she  rescued  her  unfortunate  country- 
man, did  she  not  help  to  lead  Virginia  to  ruin  ?" 

Now  she  was  ready.  Once  more  she  seized  Virginia's 
hand:  "Virginia,  I  will  rescue  your  friend  !  But  fly  with 
him,  like  a  thief  by  night,  that  I  cannot  and  will  not  do  ! 
I  must  bear  the  consequences  of  my  step.  And  you, 
dearest  Virginia,  wait  for  me  I  Let  us  go  together  next 
Saturday !" 


THE   ERUPTION   OF   THE   VOLCANO.          191 

"  No,  no  !  That  would  be  too  late  for  you  !  Hasten  ! 
Be  back  before  I  go  !  The  boat  does  not  leave  till  seven  ! 
The  God  of  Love  protect  you  !" 

Clotilde  hurried  down  the  stairs  and  crept  softly  out  of 
the  house.  Her  feet  would  hardly  bear  her,  she  trembled  in 
every  limb,  and  seemed  to  read  suspicion  in  the  face  of  every 
one  she  met.  Now  she  stood  before  the  prison.  It  was 
merely  a  jail,  where  the  criminals  were  kept  during  trial. 
With  the  exception  of  iron  bars  before  the  windows,  the 
building  was  protected  by  no  particular  means  of  precaution. 
On  this  Virginia  had  founded  her  plan.  She  had  often 
passed  it,  and  had  frequently  heard  her  father  speak  of  the 
necessity  for  a  more  secure  jail,  and  blame  the  authorities  for 
being  so  negligent  about  it. 

The  house  stood  back  in  a  yard,  surrounded  by  walls  of  a 
considerable  height;  but  the  door  of  the  latter,  beside  which 
there  was  a  bell,  was  only  closed  in  the  evening.  Clotilde 
found  it  still  open.  With  a  fearful  heart  she  raised  the 
knocker  of  the  house-door. 

A  kind  fortune  sent  the  chief  jailer  himself  to  the  door. 
He  was  an  aged  man,  not  without  humane  feelings  that 
taught  him  at  least  not  to  make  the  lot  of  his  prisoners 
harder  than  it  was  in  itself.  He  shook  his  head,  as  he 
listened  to  Clotilde's  request,  uttered  in  a  low,  trembling 
voice,  that  she  might  be  allowed  to  take  leave  of  the 
prisoner,  who  was  her  brother. 

"  Fetch  it  to  me  black  on  white,  my  dear,"  he  said,  "  fetch 
me  a  permit  from  the  governor;  nobody  can  lay  eyes  on  him 
without  that." 

But  Clotilde  continued  to  plead,  with  her  sweet,  winning 
voice ;  she  threw  back  her  veil,  and  as  that  lovely  face  was 
turned  up  to  him,  and  those  large,  honest,  tearful  eyes  looked 
at  him  so  beseechingly,  it  was  hard  for  him  to  resist.  Not 
till  she  saw  him  moved,  did  she  pull  out  her  little  pocket- 


1D2  THE    EXILES. 

book,  and  take  out  two  ten-dollar  notes  which  Virginia  had 
given  her  for  this  purpose. 

The  old  man  was  the  father  of  a  family,  and  badly  paid. 
"If  I  do  it,"  he  said  at  length,  "you  must  first  let  me 
examine  your  pockets,  and  I  must  be  present  when  you  see 
the  prisoner." 

This  was  a  hard  condition,  but  Clotilde  thought :  "  God 
will  help  me,  will  show  me  a  way  of  giving  him  the  means 
of  escape,  even  in  the  old  man's  presence."  She  agreed  to 
everything.  He  felt  in  her  pocket ;  nothing  was  there  but 
a  handkerchief  wet  with  tears,  and  the  pocket-book,  which 
she  had  almost  emptied  for  him.  He  felt  of  her  in  various 
places  ;  her  heart  beat  higher;  but  so  skillfully  had  Virginia 
draped  her,  that  the  man  was  quite  satisfied.  There  was  a 
dignity,  a  nobleness  of  deportment  about  her,  that  awed 
him  out  of  extending  his  search  any  further.  As  he  went 
up  the  stairs  before  her,  he  thought  to  himself,  with  a  smile  : 
"  How  these  women-folks  do  dress  up,  with  stiff  petticoats 
and  whalebone  concerns  !  Even  when  their  little  hearts  are 
ready  to  break  with  sorrow,  like  hers,  they  think  of  dress 
and  finery.  She  isn't  his  sister  ;  she's  too  timid  for  that ; 
it's  his  lady-love,  plain  enough  !" 

He  led  her  down  a  long,  dark  passage,  his  heavy  bunch 
of  keys  rattling  at  each  of  his  slow,  dragging  steps.  At 
length  he  stopped  before  a  door.  He  unlocked  it.  Clotilde, 
who,  now  that  the  moment  had  come,  had  lost  her  fear,  and 
felt  a  new  energy,  entered  behind  him.  It  was  a  dark,  filthy 
apartment,  made  darker  still  by  the  falling  twilight,  which 
let  in  but  a  scanty  light  through  the  barred  window  that 
was  high  up  near  the  top  of  the  wall.  A  wooden  stool  and 
a  thinly-covered  cot  were  the  only  furniture. 

On  the  bed  sat  the  prisoner,  his  elbows  resting  on  his 
knees,  his  face  hidden  in  his  hands.  He  did  not  look  up 
when  the  door  was  opened,  not  even  when  the  jailer  said  to 
him  :  "  Somebody  wants  to  speak  to  you,  Mr.  Berghedorf." 


THE    ERUPTION    OF   THE   VOLCANO.          193 

Clotilde  approached  softly  until  she  stood  close  before 
him.  A  mysterious  shudder  went  through  her  frame  at  the 
sight  of  that  form  so  bowed  by  grief.  "  Look  up,  unfor- 
tunate man,"  she  whispered,  in  her  own  language.  At  these 
sounds  the  prisoner  suddenly  started  up  in  terror  ;  he  stared 
into  her  face,  immoveable.  She  fixed  upon  him  a  deep,  long, 
breathless  gaze.  "  Spirit  of  my  Clotilde  !"  he  cried,  with 
a  hollow,  breaking  voice.  Her  senses  deserted  her.  He 
sprang  towards  her,  and — Hubert's  arms  caught  her  as 
she  fell — Hubert's  breast  served  as  a  support  for  the  fainting 
girl! 

The  jailer  had  remained  at  the  door.  He  could  not 
restrain  some  emotion  when  he  witnessed  the  deep  agitation 
of  the  lovers  ;  and,  as  if  seized  with  a  certain  shame  at  a 
feeling  so  little  familiar  to  him,  he  retired  from  the  room 
into  the  passage.  The  shutting  of  the  door,  the  jingling  of 
the  keys,  brought  Clotilde  to  herself  again. 

"  Franz,"  she  whispered,  raising  herself  up,  "  you  are 
alive  !  one  of  God's  miracles  has  saved  you — has  given  you 
back  to  me  ! — There  is  no  time  to  be  lost!  I  come  to 
liberate  you — you,  the  foreigner,  my  countryman.  But  how 
is  this  ?"  she  cried,  putting  her  hand  to  her  head,  and  tearing 
herself  quickly  from  his  arms,  "  you,  you,  Hubert,  Virginia's 
lover  !" 

"  Oh,  Clotilde  !  yours,  yours,  alone  !  Speak  not  of  that 
unhappy  girl !  You  live  !  Oh,  my  heart  was  with  you  in 
the  depths  of  the  sea  1" 

"  And  yet  she  thinks  herself  beloved  !  Could  you  have 
deceived  her  ?" 

"  My  Clotilde,  I  am  yours,  only  yours  !  Do  not  chide 
me  at  this  precious  moment  ;  I  will  explain  everything  to 
you  at  some  future  time  ;  but  now " 

He  pressed  her  once  more  to  his  heart,  but  she  tore 
herself  away  again.  "  You  are  right,"  she  said,  "  this 
moment  belongs  only  to  your  deliverance."  And  she  quickly 


194  THE    EXILES. 

took  from  under  her  dress  the  hidden  clothes  and  tools. 
"  Can  you  find  means  to  reach  this  high  window  ?"  she  said, 
anxiously. 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  shall  set  the  bed  on  end  ;  give  me  what  you 
have." 

"  During  the  night,  break  the  bars  or  cut  them  with  this 
file.  The  rope-ladder  is  longer  than  you  need  it.  I  shall 
fly  with  you  !  Yes,  my  beloved,  I  cannot  let  you  go  again  ! 
Do  you  know  the  large  Catholic  church  at  the  end  of  the 
main  street  ?  There  I  will  meet  you  at  four  o'clock  to- 
morrow morning.  Whoever  comes  first,  must  hide  under 
the  steps,  by  the  door  that  leads  into  the  basement.  Cour- 
age, dearest !  God,  who  has  brought  us  together  again, 
will  help  us.  Quick,  now,  I  hear  the  jailer  1" 

And  hiding,  with  rapid  hand,  the  clothes  in  the  bed,  and 
smoothing  the  cover,  she  gave  room  to  none  of  the  sensa- 
tions which  almost  overpowered  her,  but  crushed  them 
down  forcibly,  though  they  swelled  her  heart  nearly  to 
breaking,  and  shot  through  her  brain  as  if  they  would  tear 
it  asunder. 

One  more  long,  fervent  kiss,  and  the  jailer  entered. 

"  It  is  six  o'clock,  Miss,"  he  said  ;  "  the  gate  must  be 
locked." 

"  I  am  ready,"  replied  Clotilde.  She  followed  him  with 
trembling  steps.  With  cheeks  glowing  feverishly,  and 
breathless  from  the  rapid  walk  as  well  as  from  agitation, 
she  reached  the  house,  which  was  at  some  distance.  The 
carriage  which  was  to  take  Virginia  to  the  boat  was  already 
at  the  door. 

Virginia,  in  travelling-costume,  with  an  uneasy,  searching 
eye,  was  just  coming  down  stairs  ;  Sarah  followed  her.  At 
the  foot  of  the  stairs  stood  her  father  and  Alonzo,  the  latter 
with  his  hat  in  his  hand,  ready  to  escort  Virginia  to  the 
boat. 

"  It  is  well  you  have  come,"  he  said,  when  he  saw  Clo- 


THE    ERUPTION   OF   THE   VOLCANO.          195 

tilde  ;  "Virginia  insists  upon  going  to-day,  and  yet  did  not 
want  to  start  without  taking  leave  of  you." 

Clotildc,  with  superhuman  strength,  hurried  up  the  stairs  ; 
her  knees  nearly  broke  under  her.  "  I've  forgotten  some- 
thing," said  Virginia,  and 'drew  Clotilde  back  to  her  room. 

"  Heavens,  how  long  you  have  stayed  1"  she  cried  ;  "  I 
have  been  in  an  agony  !  Is  all  right  ?  Has  he  got  the 
things  ?" 

"  He  has  them,  Virginia  ;  he  hopes  to  escape.  But  you, 
dear  Virginia,  listen  to  me  once  more.  Do  not  go  !  Let 
me " 

"  Hush,  hush,"  cried  Virginia,  angrily.  "  Spare  your 
words  !  Come  with  me  !  There  is  yet  time.  Your  things 
will  be  sent  after  you  !" 

"  I  can't  go  with  you  !     Listen  to  me,  Virginia " 

"  Fly  with  him,  then  I     You  are  not  safe  here  !" 

"  Let  me  say  but  one  word  to  you,  dearest  Virginia — " 

"  Nothing,  nothing  !  I  will  not  hear  anything  !  Your 
sage  advice  comes  too  late — " 

"  Mr.  Castleton's  voice  was  heard  in  command  :  "  Vir- 
ginia, the  boat  won't  wait  ;  come  !" 

At  the  same  moment  Alonzo  knocked  at  the  door  : 
"  Excuse  me,  Virginia,  if  you  want  to  go  to-night,  it  is  the 
last  moment  !" 

"  I'm  coming,"  cried  Virginia,  and  flew  down  stairs. 
She  kissed  her  father  and  sister  too  hastily  to  let  any  feeling 
of  that  decisive  moment  rise  up  within  her. 

She  threw  herself  into  the  carriage,  Alonzo  jumped  in 
after  her.  "  To  the  boat,  quick  !"  he  cried,  and  the  car- 
riage rolled  away. 

Mr.  Castleton  went  into  the  front  parlour  and  took  up 
the  paper,  but  any  one  that  could  have  noticed  him,  and 
observed  how  long  it  took  him  to  read  the  first  page,  might 
easily  have  seen  that  his  thoughts  were  more  with  the 
traveller. 


196  THE   EXILES. 

Sarah  went  with  Clotilde  to  their  room. 

"I  am  rather  glad,"  she  said,  "that  Virginia  has  gone  on 
this  visit ;  it  will  at  least  divert  her  mind,  if  it  cannot  quiet 
her.  But  for  her,  too,  the  Lord  will  in  time  find  the  right 
way  to  lead  her  to  the  end  where  she  would  find  peace.  And 
who  knows  if  this  trial  is  not  the  beginning  of  it  ?  For  how 
saith  Solomon  ?  '  Before  destruction,  the  heart  of  man  is 
haughty,  and  before  honour  is  humility.'  " 

"  You,  too,  dear  Clotilde,"  she  continued,  turning  to  the 
latter,  who,  terribly  excited,  a  picture  of  the  inward  struggle 
of  her  soul,  went  from  window  to  window,  from  the  bed  to 
the  door,  and  almost  writhed  with  painful  impatience  under 
Sarah's  pious  wisdom  ;  "  you,  too,  dear  Clotilde,  seem  to  suffer 
deeply  !  The  fate  of  your  countryman  affects  you  ;  and  how 
could  it  not  ?  He  has  transgressed  against  an  earthly  law, 
but  perhaps  he  thought  he  was  obeying  the  Lord's  command. 
If  so,  he  will  have  the  inward  consolation  that  '  he  who  jus- 
tifieth  the  wicked  and  he  that  condemneth  the  just,  even  they 
both  are  an  abomination  to  the  Lord.'  But  now  I  must  go 
down  to  make  tea  for  Papa.  Shall  I  send  you  up  a  cup  ? 
You  need,  before  anything  else,  to  collect  yourself." 

"Do  so,  dear  Sarah,"  almost  gasped  Clotilde.  She  felt 
somewhat  relieved  when  the  door  closed  behind  Sarah.  The 
latter  was  right  ;  she  needed  to  collect  herself  after  the  pain- 
ful emotions  of  the  day,  after  the  terrible  agitation  of  the 
evening.  She  was  at'  length  alone.  She  had  found  him 
again  !  He  lived  !  She  knelt  down.  She  wanted  to  pray, 
to  thank  the  God  who  had  given  him  back  to  her  ;  who  had 
saved  him.  But  it  seemed  as  if  a  sea  of  fire  was  tossing  to 
and  fro  in  her  brain  ;  the  thoughts  tumbled  wildly  over  each 
other  ;  her  heart,  with  feverish,  quivering  pulsations,  threat- 
ened to  burst. 

She  arose  from  her  knees.  She  could  not  calm  herself 
sufficiently  to  pray.  She  had  him  back  again,  but  how  ! 
Doomed  to  a  disgraceful  punishment !  Would  he  succeed  in 


THE   EKUPTION   OF   THE   VOLCANO.          197 

his  escape  ?  And  if  not — if  he  was  surprised  in  the  act — 
what  a  new,  still  more  terrible  separation  awaited  them  I 
And  Virginia — the  thought  of  Virginia  seemed  to  pour  a 
corroding  poison  by  drops  into  her  wounds.  "  He  thought 
me  dead,"  she  said,  gazing  before  her  in  melancholy  brooding  ; 
"  a  new  happiness  was  offered  to  him — and  should  I  blame 
him  ?  He  is  a  man  !"  And  an  unspeakable  bitterness  came 
over  her  doubting,  suspecting  heart. 

"  Perhaps,"  she  thought,  "  it  was  only  gratitude,  not  love, 
not  actual  love,  that  ever  bound  him  to  me  ;  and  had  I  not 
offered  myself  to  him  ?  Virginia  is  so  beautiful  !  Oh,  how 
could  I  compare  myself  to  her  !  But  no,  no  !  he  loves  me, 
me  alone.  None  but  the  eye  of  love  can  have  that  look  ! 
How  did  he  say  ?  I  should  not  chide  him  ;  nor  will  I  do  so, 
in  unworthy  jealousy.  He  is  mine,  mine  ;  even  the  fairest 
shall  not  take  him  from  me  ! 

"  Poor  Virginia  !  And  shall  I  deceive  you  so  ?  Must 
you  lose  lover  and  friend  at  the  same  time  ?  No,  I  cannot, 
may  not  impose  upon  you !  Hubert  may  fly  alone.  I  will 
not  join  him  until  you,  poor,  deluded  heart,  know  all ;  until 
your  generosity  consents  to  see  us  happy. 

"  But  how  1  Shall  I  leave  Hubert  to  himself?  suffer  him, 
in  his  disappointment,  to  let  the  right  moment  pass  by  unem- 
ployed ?  Where  should  I  find  him  again  ?  And  what  if  he 
were  to  follow  Virginia's " 

She  was  ashamed  of  the  thought.  She  was  angry  at  her- 
self for  thinking  it.  Yet  we  will  not  answer  for  it  that  it  did 
not  contribute  to  ripen  her  resolve.  She  suddenly  remem- 
bered that,  in  the  hurry  of  the  moment,  she  had  forgotten  to 
give  him  Virginia's  letter  and  pocket-book.  He  had  no 
travelling-money — he  could  not  go.  She  must  fly  with  him. 
This  decided  all.  She  felt  somewhat  relieved  when  she  had 
arrived  at  this  conclusion. 

It  had  grown  late,  and  she  had  still  all  her  preparations  to 
make.  Fortunately,  Sarah  was  at  an  evening  meeting,  ap- 


198  THE   EXILES. 

pointed  by  Elijah  Fleming  to  awaken  the  public  interest  for 
the  missions  in  India,  -whither  he  intended  shortly  to  return. 
Clotilde  quickly  packed  up  her  scanty  wardrobe,  putting  as 
much  of  it  as  she  could  carry  herself  into  a  small  travelling-bag. 
Then  she  sat  down,  and  wrote  the  following  letter  to  Alonzo: — 

"  To  you,  Alonzo,  my  deliverer  and  preserver,  I  owe, 
before  all,  an  account  of  the  unheard-of  step  which  I  take,  in 
secretly  leaving  this  house,  which  offered  me  hospitality,  a 
shelter,  and  a  maintenance.  A  peculiar  circumstance,  which 
it  is  hardly  necessary  here  to  describe,  but  in  which  I  recog- 
nise clearly  the  kind,  merciful  hand  of  God,  led  me  to  discover 
in  the  prisoner  Berghedorf — my  affianced  husband,  Franz 
Hubert.  Him,  whom  I  deemed  buried  beneath  the  waves, 
a  miracle  had  spared  to  me  ;  and  should  he  become  a  .victim 
of  your  cruel  justice  ?  Alonzo,  I  believe  if  I  had  recognised 
him  before  the  terrible  sentence  had  been  spoken,  I  would 
have  confided  in  you,  your  noble  heart  would  have  saved  him. 
As  it  is,  nothing  remains  to  me  but  myself  to  show  him  the 
way  to  escape,  myself  to  fly  with  him.  You,  Alonzo,  will 
not  condemn  me.  Seek  also  to  dispose  your  uncle  in  my 
favour,  that  he  may  not  hate  me,  not  despise  me.  Sarah,  who 
is  all  goodness,  will  not  do  so,  I  am  certain.  To  dear  Yir- 
ginia  I  will  write  myself. 

"  I  have  a  sum  of  money  in  my  hands,  which  Virginia 
intrusted  to  me  for  another  purpose,  but  which  I  must  now 
use  for  Hubert's  and  my  flight.  I  shall  ask  her  to  pay  her- 
self from  my  salary,  which  I  have  begged  Mr.  Castleton  to 
keep  for  me.  Your  debtor,  noble  Alonzo,  I  must  still 
remain.  And  can  I  ever  cease  to  be  so,  for  all  your  kind- 
ness, your  delicacy,  your  sympathy  ?  Oh  !  may  God  give 
you  great  happiness  yet  !  As  soon  as  I  have  reached  a  safe 
place  of  refuge, — safe  from  your  pursuing  justice,  Alonzo, — 
I  shall  write  you  again,  and  request  you  to  send  me  my 
trunk.  God  be  with  you  all.  "  CLOTILDE  OSTEN." 


THE   ERUPTION   OF   THE   VOLCANO.          199 

She  lay  down  before  Sarah  returned.  She  longed,  after 
a  day  which  had  laid  claim  on  all  her  powers,  to  strengthen 
herself  by  a  short  slumber.  But  no  sleep  came  upon  her 
spirit.  When  Sarah  softly  entered  the  room,  she  closed  her 
eyes;  she  wished  to  avoid  all  conversation.  Sarah  approached 
the  bed  and  looked  at  her  with  sympathy,  undressed  herself, 
read  her  chapter  in  the  Bible,  and  then  stepped  once  more 
close  up  to  her.  She  did  not  kneel  at  her  own  side  of  the 
bed,  she  knelt  down  by  Clotilde.  Among  the  whispered 
tones  which  came  from  her  lips,  Clotilde  heard  plainly  her 
own  name.  Sarah  was  praying  for  her.  How  deeply  did 
this  touch  her  !  She  raised  herself,  wound  her  arm  around 
Sarah's  neck,  and  wept  gently. 

"  Blessed  are  they  that  mourn,"  said  Sarah,  "  for  they  shall 
be  comforted.  Oh  Clotilde,  now,  now  give  your  stubborn 
heart  to  the  Saviour,  turn  it  at  length  from  the  creature  to 
the  Creator!" 

"  I  hope  to  God,  dearest  Sarah,"  replied  Clotilde,  "  that  I 
have  never  turned  it  entirely  from  Him,  that  I  love  the  Crea- 
tor in  the  creature.  But  you  are  right,  I  am  not  resigned, 
not  grateful  enough!" 

And  she  knelt  by  her  side,  and  both  the  young  girls  prayed 
long,  with  burning  fervour.  Unlike  were  the  sounds  which 
they  sent  up  to  heaven,  unlike,  too,  the  form  in  which  the 
thought  consecrated  to  God  rose  up  to  Him,  but  He  under- 
stood, He  vouchsafed  to  hear  them  both. 

Sarah,  as  usual,  was  soon  fast  asleep.  The  German  pro- 
verb, "A  clear  conscience  is  the  softest  pillow,"  seemed 
expressly  invented  for  her.  When  Clotilde  saw  her  sleeping 
soundly,  she  arose  ;  once  more  she  offered  up  a  prayer.  Then, 
in  preparation  for  the  journey,  she  put  on  fresh  clothes,  locked 
her  trunk,  and  sealed  her  letter  to  Alonzo.  She  looked  at 
her  watch  ;  it  was  past  three.  She  put  on  her  bonnet  and 
cloak,  hung  the  bag  upon  her  arm,  cast  a  last  loving  glance 
upon  Sarah,  and  went  out  into  the  dark  night. 


200  THE   EXILES. 

Trembling,  stealing  along  close  to  the  houses,  she  went 
her  way  to  the  main  street,  at  the  end  of  which  stood  the 
Catholic  church.  And  must  she,  Clotilde  Osten,  once 
the  centre  of  a  distinguished  circle,  the  pride  of  her  parents 
and  friends,  must  she  now  creep  along  in  darkness  like  a 
misdoer,  with  beating  heart,  terrified  at  the  slightest  noise, 
burning  with  shame  at  the  secrecy  forced  upon  her,  and 
trembling  lest  she  be  discovered,  as  if  a  heavy  crime  weighed 
on  her  conscience  ?  Must  she  thus  leave  the  house  that  had 
so  hospitably  received  her  ?  The  image  of  the  Baron  stood 
before  her  mind,  with  his  proud,  noble  look  ;  the  forms 
of  her  beloved  parents,  too,  who  had  ever  spread  the  arms  of 
love  above  her.  But  onward,  onward  ! 

The  cities  of  the  United  States  are  not  over-filled  with 
night-watches.  She  met  but  one,  who  scanned  her  closely, 
but  suffered  the  figure  so  full  of  dignity,  with  its  modest 
quiet  step,  to  pass  unmolested.  He  probably  took  her  for  a 
servant-girl,  who  had  got  belated  at  some  festivity,  and  was 
now  stealing  home  before  daybreak,  before  the  family  should 
notice  her  absence. 

At  length  she  had  reached  the  church.  Something  was 
moving  under  the  stairs.  She  approached,  and  was  in  Hu- 
bert's arms  !  He  was  free  ! 

"  Now  come,  beloved,  come  !"  she  said,  and,  taking  his 
arm,  they  both  proceeded  quickly  and  in  silence  to  the  harbour. 
The  dock  at  which  lay  the  Wilmington  boat,  was  not  far 
distant.  When  they  i-eached  it,  there  was  already  some  move- 
ment on  the  boat,  in  preparation  of  its  starting,  and  they  were 
allowed  to  come  onboard,  when  Clotilde,  who  made  the  spokes- 
woman, on  the  pretence  that  Hubert  was  a  foreign  sailor 
and  did  not  understand  English,  explained  that  they  had  not 
known  the  hour  of  starting  and  had  feared  to  come  too  late. 
Among  the  running  to  and  fro  of  the  busy  sailors,  the  steward- 
ess, the  waiters,  they  found  a  quiet  corner  where  they  could 
sit,  close  together,  content  to  look  deep  into  each  other's 


THE   ERUPTION   OF   THE   VOLCANO.          201 

eyes,  to  press  each  other's  hands,  and  wMsper  words  of  love. 
It  was  the  first  time  for  nearly  a  year  that  a  ray  of  light 
once  more  entered  Clotilde's  poor  heart. 

Meanwhile   the  steamboat  filled  ;  the  hour   of  starting 
struck.     The  summoning  bell  sounded  for  the  third  time,  and 
the  boat  put  off. 
0* 


202  THE   EXILES. 


CHAPTEE  XIV. 

THE      FLIGHT. 

THE  fear  that  some  of  their  fellow-passengers  might  have 
seen  Hubert  before  the  court,  to  which  his  case  had  drawn 
crowds  of  people,  made  it  necessary  for  our  fugitives  to 
observe  the  greatest  caution  also  during  their  voyage  of  twelve 
or  fourteen  hours.  Hubert,  however,  in  his  sailor's  dress,  could 
not  at  any  rate  have  mingled  among  the  passengers  in  the  first 
cabin,  without  creating  some  sensation.  He  therefore  seated 
himself  with  his  face  turned  to  the  water,  on  one  of  the 
trunks  with  which  the  fore-deck  was  covered,  and  hardly 
stirred  during  the  whole  passage.  The  broad  brim  of  his 
hat,  and  a  black  ribbon  which  Clotilde  had  tied  over  his  left 
eye,  as  if  it  had  been  hurt,  a  handful  of  coal-dust  which,  at 
her  advice,  he  rubbed  over  his  face,  and  which  gave  his 
naturally  blooming  complexion  a  dingy,  disagreeable  look,  all 
these  disguised  him  sufficiently.  When  he  was  addressed, 
which,  however,  happened  rarely  enough,  Clotilde  would 
answer  for  him,  on  the  pretence  that  her  brother  had  just 
arrived  in  America  and  did  not  understand  English. 

To  see  a  young  woman  so  well-dressed,  whose  every  motion 
showed  a  noble  refinement,  though  a  thick  green  veil  hid  her 
face,  in  company  with  a  common  sailor,  would  have  been 
conspicuous  enough  in  any  other  country  ;  but  in  the  United 
States,  where  even  the  commonest  work-woman  likes,  in 
travelling,  to  feel  herself  a  lady,  and  endeavours,  by  her  man- 
ners as  well  as  her  dress,  to  pass  for  one,  none  but  a  close 


THE   FLIGHT.  203 

observer  could  find  anything  singular  in  the  circumstance. 
The  steamboat  was  over-filled,  and  the  crowd  around  the 
lovers  made  it  impossible  to  communicate  to  each  other  more 
than  the  main  features  of  their  history.  They  were  together 
again.  Was  not  that  enough  ?  "Is  it  no  dream  ?"  Hubert 
asked  again  and  again,  in  an  earnest  whisper. — "  You  live  !" 
breathed  Clotilde,  "you  have  risen  to  me  from  the  dead  ! 
"Where  were  you  all  this  time  ?"  "  Let  me  ask  you  the  same 
question  !"  he  replied,  as  softly.  "  Has  none  of  my  adver- 
tisements ever  reached  you?" — "Have  you  never  met  with 
a  notice  for  you  in  my  name  ?" — "  Fate  had  thrown  me  far  to 
the  North,  beloved  !" — "  And  me  to  the  far  South  ;  and  I 
was  ill  a  long,  long  time." — "So  was  I;  I  was  a  long  time 
in  the  hospital,  helpless,  friendless  !" — "  Poor,  poor  Franz  !" 
Thus  they  whispered  to  each  other  in  often  interrupted 
conversation. 

When  they  arrived  in  Wilmington  the  train  was  already 
awaiting  them.  Day  and  night  they  hastened  on,  unceasingly, 
through  North  Carolina,  Virginia,  and  a  part  of  Maryland. 
At  Baltimore  a  branch  railroad  goes  off  from  the  great  road 
to  Philadelphia,  to  the  westward,  to  Harrisburg  :  they  chose 
this  one,  because  it  would  bring  them  sooner  upon  the  ground 
of  a  free  state  ;  perhaps,  too,  Clotilde  proposed  this  direction 
because  Virginia  might  already  have  arrived  in  Philadelphia. 
She  felt  that  for  the  moment  a  meeting  was  impossible. 

In  a  fine,  large  village  of  Pennsylvania  they  at  length,  for 
the  first  time,  made  a  short  stay.  The  place  had  been  founded 
by  German  colonists  in  the  seventeenth  century.  Among  those 
who  seemed  still  related  to  them  by  their  German  blood,  our 
travellers  thought  they  might  feel  safe.  A  bright,  cheerful 
country-inn  invited  the  wearied  wanderers  to  rest. 

A  bodily  exertion  such  as  a  journey  of  some  days,  even  if 
it  is  made  by  railroad,  requires,  could  only  serve  as  a  beneficial 
alleviation  of  the  mental  excitement  into  which  their  unex- 
pected meeting  and  imminent  danger  had  thrown  them.  Both 


204  THE   EXILES. 

the  lovers  commenced  comparatively  to  give  way  to  a  feeling 
of  safety.  But  the  sudden  turn  of  their  fortunes  caused  them 
to  feel  a  sort  of  dizziness,  which  did  not  suffer  them  to  regain 
a  clear  consciousness.  Nevertheless,  Hubert  might  perhaps 
have  been  called  perfectly  happy.  He  sat  beside  his  dearly 
beloved,  whom  he  had  wept  for  as  dead  ;  he  pressed  her  arm, 
his  hand  clasped  hers  ;  his  eyes  hung  upon  hers,  he  caught 
with  unutterable  bliss  the  sweet  accents  of  love  which  she 
whispered  to  him,  and,  with  the  whole  power  of  the  gift  of 
nature  peculiar  to  him,  wove  anew  the  airy,  golden,  magic  net 
of  speech  around  the  young  girl's  heart,  so  loving,  so  full  of 
emotion,  so  willing  to  yield. 

How  sweetly  did  the  pure,  sonorous  German,  so  long  un- 
heard, fall  upon  her  listening  ear  from  the  lips  of  her  beloved  ! 
Careless  as  ever,  he  was  troubled  by  no  fear  of  pursuit ;  per- 
haps he  would  have  neglected  even  the  most  necessary  precau- 
tions, if  Clotilde  had  not  urged  him  to  them.  He  generally 
slept  through  the  nights,  and  that  in  such  a  sound,  refreshing 
sleep,  as  Clotilde  had  always  thought  only  a  person  secure 
from  all  danger  could  enjoy  in  a  swelling  bed.  By  day  waking 
dreams  enlivened  his  fancy,  and  helped  him  bear  the  monoto- 
nous journey  :  dreams  of  a  new  paradise-like  happiness  which 
should  bloom  to  him,  by  the  side  of  the  beloved  one  now 
restored  to  him,  in  some  quiet  valley  of  the  immeasurable 
West,  which  he  brought  up  in  detached,  sketch-like,  fascinating 
pictures  before  his  dear  companion. 

Clotilde  was  touched  as  she  listened  to  him.  But  her  soul 
was  agitated  by  various  conflicting  emotions.  She,  too,  in 
momentary  forge tfulness,  would  give  herself  up  to  the  blissful 
feeling  of  being  once  more  united  to  him,  of  being  no  more 
alone,  neglected,  in  the  wide,  strange,  desolate  world  ;  but 
between  these  sensations  would  crowd  continually  the  fair 
image  of  Virginia,  the  betrayed,  deceived  Virginia.  She  longed 
to  write  to  her,  to  justify  herself  before  her.  Ah  !  could 
Hubert  justify  himself,  too  ?  Perhaps  Virginia,  accustomed 


THE   FLIGHT.  205 

to  conquest,  had  been  mistaken  ;  perhaps  she  had  thought  she 
saw  love  where  there  was  only  admiration,  only  gratitude. 
Perhaps  too — he  thought  her  dead — could  she  demand — ? 
No  !  He  believed  himself  free,  he  had  wept  over  her  loss, 
and  forgotten  her.  No,  no  !  It  could  not  be  !  He  still  loved 
her,  he  loved  none  but  her  !  Each  of  his  looks  told  her  so. 
She  chid  herself  for  her  suspicion  ;  and  yet — if  Hubert  took 
her  hand  in  such  a  moment,  she  always  found  an  excuse  to 
draw  it  away  from  him. 

And  then — how  did  every  whisper  behind  them  terrify 
her,  how  fearful  was  she  at  every  glance  directed  towards 
Hubert !  How  humiliating,  too,  to  herself,  was  the  thought 
of  her  nocturnal  flight  from  Mr.  Castleton's  house  ;  of 
having  left  behind  her  there,  where  she  had  enjoyed  so  much 
kindness  and  hospitality,  the  image  of  an  adventuress  ! 

To  Sarah,  too,  she  wished  to  write,  as  soon  as  she  was 
a  little  quiet  ;  disclose,  explain  all.  And  her  friends  in 
Germany — oh  !  she  wished  she  had  not  written  to  the 
Baron  !  What  useless  pain  had  she  given  him  !  Perhaps — 
what  vain  hopes — She  would  not  give  way  to  that  thought! 

A  large  brick  church  stood  opposite  the  inn,  beyond  the 
sunny  green  covered  with  young  trees.  Clotilde  felt  that, 
as  soon  as  they  had  both  given  their  body  the  necessary 
repose  by  a  refreshing  sleep,  their  first  walk  must  take  them 
there  ;  that  a  flight  across  the  country  befitted  her  only  by 
the  side  of  a  husband.  "  Aren't  ye  man  and  wife  ?"  the 
landlord  had  said,  when  Clotilde  stopped  in  embarrassment 
at  the  door  of  a  large,  newly-whitewashed,  scantily-furnished 
chamber,  with  one  gigantic  bed,  to  which  he  showed  the 
travellers,  and  asked  for  another  room.  "  D'ye  want  a 
single  bed?" 

Several  hours  of  sleep  had  refreshed  her  very  much. 
Hubert,  whose  wonderfully  elastic  nature  needed  but  a  short 
rest,  had  meanwhile  employed  his  time  in  obtaining  some 
clothes  which  made  him  a  proper  companion  for  Clotilde. 


206  THE   EXILES. 

The  wide  trowsers  of  Alonzo's  sailor's  costume  he  had  easily 
slipped  on  over  his  pantaloons  ;  but  the  blue  cloth  jacket 
had  only  just  fitted  him,  and  he  had  been  obliged  to  leave 
his  coat  behind  instead.  A  large  store  which  supplied  the 
villagers,  who,  like  other  American  country-people,  were 
dressed  like  city-folks  on  Sundays  and  holidays,  with  all 
articles  for  their  temporal  as  well  as  spiritual  need — with 
sugar,  coffee,  and  salt  fish,  as  well  as  with  bibles,  rocking 
chairs,  and  dry  goods — had  now  also  furnished  for  Hubert  a 
tolerably  fitting  coat,  a  hat,  and  a  complete  change  of  linen. 
When  he  entered  Clotilde's  room,  he  seemed  to  her,  involun- 
tarily, more  familiar  than  during  the  journey,  in  a  strange 
costume  and  with  the  bandage  over  his  eye. 

She  held  out  her  hand  to  him  with  a  sweet  smile  of  wel- 
come ;  he  pressed  it  to  his  lips.  With  delighted  eyes  he 
gazed  earnestly  at  his  adored,  in  whose  look  of  love  he  read 
entire  devotion.  He  embraced  her,  and  held  her  for  a 
moment  pressed  close  to  him. 

"At  last,"  he  cried,  "  at  last  I  can  call  thee  mine  !  No 
power  shall  again  tear  thee  from  me  !  Mine  entirely,  for 
ever !" 

"With  my  entire,  full  heart,  beloved,"  whispered  Clo- 
tilde,  and  added,  casting  a  glance  through  the  window  at 
the  church  :  "  but  let  us  now  not  delay  a  moment  longer  to 
take  that  step  which  shall  consecrate  our  union  also  before 
the  world." 

Hubert  looked  at  her  inquiringly.  He  hesitated : 
"Why,"  he  said,  at  length,  with  a  half-smile,  "why, 
dearest,  should  we  drag  the  chain  of  superannuated  pre- 
judices with  us  into  the  wilderness  ?  The  unspoken  vow 
which  my  heart  made  to  you  seven  years  ago  in  all  its 
pulsations,  does  not  need  the  consecration  of  a  clergyman, 
to  be  valid  before  the  Almighty." 

"  Soul  of  my  life  !"  he  added,  when  Clotilde,  who  had 
turned  pale  during  his  words,  quickly  extricated  herself 


THE   FLIGHT.  207 

from  his  arms,  "  could  yon  misunderstand  me  !  You  are 
too  pure  for  that.  If  you  wish  an  outward  tie,  if  you  think 
so  meanly  of  me  as  to  believe  it  necessary,  let  us  go  to  the 
justice  of  the  peace.  It  is  his  tie  alone  that  is  valid  in 
this  country  ;  the  mere  religious  ceremony  is  of  no  account." 

Clotilde,  whose  heart  was  drawn  together  by  an  unspeak- 
ably bitter,  painful  feeling,  collected  herself  with  the  whole 
strength  of  her  soul.  N 

"  It  is  to  me,  however,"  she  said,  with  forced  calmness. 
"  What  your  philosophy  teaches  you  to  call  a  mere  cere- 
mony, is  to  me  a  holy  rite  of  the  highest  importance.  If 
you  still  wish  to  possess  me,  Hubert,  you  can  only  do  so  by 
this  rite." 

"And  so  be  it  welcome  to  me  !"  replied  Hubert,  quickly. 
"  Is  it  possible,  dearest,  that  I  pained  you  by  any  expres- 
sion ?  Cursed  be  that  expression,  then  !  You  yourself, 
beloved  Clotilde,  spoke  of  a  consecration  before  the  world. 
This  made  me  think  for  a  moment  that  you,  too — But 
come,  come,  my  adored  !  Let  us  not  lose  a  moment.  Every- 
thing that  you  wish,  as  you  wish  it  !" 

He  himself  threw  her  shawl  around  her,  put  on  her  hat, 
and  showed  his  zeal  by  affectionate  urging.  But  the  drop 
of  poison  which  he  had  thoughtlessly  instilled  into  her  soul, 
burned  and  corroded  her  heart.  As  she  passed,  by  his  side, 
through  the  village,  on  the  way  to  the  minister's  house, 
which  lay  some  distance  off,  the  Baron's  image  rose  involun- 
tarily before  her,  and  his  warning  voice  sounded  the  question 
in  her  ear  :  "  Do  you  believe  that  this  man  will  be  a  safe 
guide  to  you  through  life  ?" 

The  house  of  the  Lutheran  minister,  a  son  of  German 
parents,  born  in  America,  had  been  described  to  them  as 
situated  at  the  other  end  of  the.  village,  too  far  from  the 
church  to  have  been  convenient  for  him,  if  he  had  been 
permanently  appointed.  But,  after  the  fashion  of  the  coun- 
try, the  congregation  had  only  "hired"  him  for  a  year,  to 


208  THE    EXILES. 

see  first  how  they  liked  him  ;  and  the  minister,  therefore, 
had  not  wished  to  leave  his  little  farm. 

Hubert  and  Clotilde  went  along  the  long  main  street  of 
the  village,  passing  several  buildings,  which,  though  not  ma- 
terially different  from  common  dwelling-houses,  were  rather 
larger  than  these.  They  had  no  yards,  and  most  of  them 
three  entrances  ;  one  or  the  other  was  furnished  with  a 
wooden  portico.  They  were  the  meeting-houses  of  the  Pres- 
byterians, Methodists,  Baptists,  Bunkers,  Quakers,  and  Chris- 
tians, which  stood  here,  at  small  distances  from  each  other, 
in  no  more  peaceful  harmony  than  the  devout  congregations 
which  filled  them  every  Sunday,  lived  beside  each  other. 
The  Episcopal  church  alone  looked  rather  more  genteel  and 
assuming  ;  it  had  a  small  steeple,  and  its  high  gothic  win- 
dows gave  it,  in  the  eyes  of  the  German  strangers,  more  the 
look  of  a  church  than  the  other  houses  of  God,  with  their 
two  rows  of  small  windows,  their  green  blinds,  and  bare 
roofs. 

At  length  they  turned  into  a  side  street,  which  brought 
them  to  a  rich,  open  corn-field.  Here  they  soon  saw  a  large 
farm-yard,  with  fine  barns  and  stables,  lying  before  them, 
adjoining  which  there  was  a  small  house,  which  in  summer 
peeped  out  from  immense  cabbages  and  gay  flowers  ;  but 
now,  as  there  were  no  trees  around  it,  presented  rather  a 
bare  appearance  to  the  eye.  It  was,  from  the  description 
they  had  received,  the  dwelling  of  the  Lutheran  minister. 

His  reverence  was  just  in  the  stable,  feeding  his  cattle, 
for  as  his  ministerial  office  was  so  precarious,  he  could  all  the 
less  neglect  his  farm.  A  white-headed  boy,  with  a  red 
worsted  nightcap,  stood  before  the  door,  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  and  stared  at  Hubert,  who  tried  to  make  him  un- 
derstand in  English  and  German  by  turns,  with  large,  watery- 
blue  eyes.  At  length  he  went  to  call  the  "  boss." 

Hubert  and  Clotilde  entered  an  open  back-room,  which 
was  furnished  with  decent  simplicity,  and  had  in  it  two  tables, 


THE   FLIGHT.  209 

on  one  of  which  lay  a  Bible.  They  soon  saw,  from  the  win- 
dow which  went  into  the  yard,  a  tall,  gaunt  man,  with  a 
pipe  in  his  mouth,  come  out  of  the  stable  with  the  white- 
headed  boy,  and  wash  himself  at  the  well.  A  few  moments 
after,  he  entered  the  room.  He  looked  sullen,  and  had 
evidently  not  liked  the  interruption.  But  his  face  cleared 
up  in  a  measure  at  the  sight  of  the  noble-looking  couple. 

"You  want  to  be  married?"  he  asked  ;  and,  as  Hubert 
answered  in  the  affirmative,  he  pushed  one  of  the  side-tables 
into  the  middle  of  the  room,  for  he  was  in  a  hurry.  He 
opened  a  closet,  took  out  a  black  gown  and  a  pair  of  white 
bands,  and  soon  stood  before  them  as  a  minister.  While  he 
was  dressing,  he  had  asked  whether  they  had  rings  with 
them,  and  as  they  had  not,  had  opened  a  small  drawer,  from 
which,  while  he  was  putting  one  hand  into  the  sleeve,  he 
had  taken  with  the  other  a  paper,  and  supplied  them  with 
two  brass  rings.  Upon  this  he  stepped  behind  the  table, 
beckoned  to  the  bridal  couple  to  place  themselves  opposite  to 
him,  and  drily  and  hastily  read  off  the  marriage-service. 

Pale,  cold  as  ice,  as  if  inwardly  frozen,  the  bride  stood 
before  him  ;  the  bridegroom  with  a  sensation  of  contempt- 
uous indifference. 

They  were  married.  The  minister,  in  uniting  them,  had 
not  even  called  them  by  their  names.  Any  other  couple 
who  had  been  standing  in  the  door  or  before  the  window, 
might  have  appropriated  the  ceremony,  and  referred  the 
words  of  marriage  to  themselves.  The  minister  now  seated 
himself  at  the  other  table,  on  which  stood  some  writing- 
materials,  took  a  book  from  the  drawer,  and  began  to  enter 
the  marriage  which  he  had  performed.  Now  only  he  asked 
their  names.  "  Do  you  want  a  certificate  ?"  he  inquired, 
"  we  don't  charge  extra  for  it." 

Hubert  looked  at  Clotilde.  "It  is  not  necessary,"  he 
said,  as  she  slightly  shook  her  head.  He  then  silently  placed 
a  ten-dollar  note  into  the  open  Bible,  gave  Clotilde  his  arm, 


210  THE    EXILES. 

and  bid  the  minister  good  day.  But  the  latter,  who  had 
been  looking  another  way,  called  out :  "  Hallo  there,  I  get 
half-a-dollar  !"  Hubert  silently  pointed  to  the  bank-note. 
"  Oh  !"  cried  the  other,  in  a  tone  of  excuse,  and  a  ray  of 
pleasure  suddenly  illumined  his  face  as  he  observed  the 
amount  of  the  note  ;  "  Thankee,  thankee !  Don't  be 
offended  ;  there's  many  a  one  slips  away  from  me.  This  is 
a  free  country,  and  every  one  does  as  he  likes." 

Silently,  with  heavy  hearts,  Hubert  pressing  Clotilde's 
arm  to  his,  and  holding  her  hand,  whose  icy  coldness  he  felt 
through  her  glove,  the  lovers  went  their  way.  The  question 
was  on  his  lips  :  "  Art  thou  now  mine  ?  Am  1  now  thine  ?" 
But  he  spared  her  injured  feelings,  which  he  understood, 
and  only  looked  at  her  with  redoubled  affection  and  a  deep, 
tender  pity.  Poor  Clotilde  !  With  what  coarse  hands  did 
the  most  vulgar  reality  extend  its  grasp  into  thy  wounded 
soul,  and  tear  the  last  remaining  garlands  from  the  altar  of 
thy  youthful  dreams  !  She  too  had  a  maiden's  heart  !  She 
too  had  once  seen,  with  a  tremour  of  timid  and  joyful  fore- 
boding, her  image  reflected  from  the  clear  mirror  of  her 
youthful  fancy  with  the  bridal  wreath  in  her  hair,  surrounded 
by  blushing  companions,  her  loving  mother  beside  her  with 
her  blessing,  the  bells  sounding  solemnly,  still  more  solemn 
the  sacred  words  of  the  pastoral  consecration  to  a  new  re- 
doubled life.  There  they  still  lay,  those  vapoury  images,  in 
a  quiet  corner  of  her  heart,  hardly  discernible,  but  still  un- 
extinguished,  kept  alive  by  the  poetical  breath  of  her  soul. 
And  now  to  be  so  suddenly  dragged  into  the  flattest,  most 
naked  reality,  to  be  introduced  into  the  holy  of  holies  with 
such  a  coarse,  desecrating  hand  ! — Poor  Clotilde  !  You  are 
wise,  are  experienced  ;  you  think  you  know  life,  and  still  dream 
of  a  harmony  between  your  inner  being  and  the  outward 
world  ?  You  think  you  understand  the  poet  who  sings  of 
"  the  fate  which  all  that's  fair  on  earth  doth  meet,"  and  have 
not  even  yet  learned  to  realize  how  vulgarity  throws  it,  every 


THE   FLIGHT.  211 

day,  with  coarse,  ruthless  hand,  "'neath  its  chargers'  iron 
feet  !" 

But  this  discord  in  her  soul  could  not  last  long.  Hubert, 
her  beloved  Hubert,  sat  at  her  feet,  with  a  heaven  of  love  and 
happiness  in  his  eyes;  that  was  poetry  enough  to  shed  a  lustre 
around  the  most  vulgar  prose.  Ten  times  Hubert  commenced 
his  story,  ten  times  Clotilde  her  own  ;  tears,  kisses,  gratitude 
to  God,  overpowering  reminiscences,  embraces,  interrupted 
them  as  often  as  they  began.  At  last  Clotilde  said  :  "  One 
thing  weighs  heavily  on  my  heart,  I  must  write  to  Virginia. 
I  cannot  enjoy  so  much  bliss  without  her  forgiveness.  I 
must  write  to  Sarah  ;  I  cannot  be  perfectly  happy  without  a 
blessing  from  her  pious,  holy  heart.  Early  to-morrow  morn- 
ing, beloved,  you  know  we  must  hasten  on  to  Harrisburg. 
Tell  me  your  story  then,  and  I  will  recount  mine.  And  what 
much  need  is  there  of  it  ?  God  has  restored  us  to  each  other  ! 
That  we  know,  that  one  certainty  is  enough  !" 

And  Hubert  sealed  her  decision  with  an  ecstatic  kiss  and 
embrace.  He  could  wait.  He  did  not  suspect  that  Clotilde, 
without  perhaps  being  well  conscious  of  it  herself,  was  willing 
to  put  off  hearing  his  story  a  little  longer,  from  a  secret 
dread  of  finding  him  not  so  guiltless  as  she  hoped. 

When  she  was  ready  to  write  to  Virginia,  she  sat  for  a 
long  time,  pen  in  hand,  without  knowing  how  to  commence, 
and  when  she  had  commenced,  without  knowing  how  to 
proceed.  Her  own  sense  of  delicacy  told  her  that  she  must 
touch  upon  Virginia's  love  as  lightly  as  possible  ;  but  how 
could  she  avoid  mentioning  it  ?  It  seemed  easy  to  assert  her 
own  first  right  to  Hubert ;  but  could  she  tell  her,  what  she 
had  to  gather  from  Hubert's  passing  remarks,  what  her 
heart  longed  so  fervently  to  believe  :  that  only  her  own 
passion  had  deceived  her,  that  Berghedorf  had  admired  her 
beauty,  been  touched  by  her  sympathy,  but  had  never  loved 
her? 

Clotilde  was  generous  ;  she  knew  that  such  a  conviction 


212  THE   EXILES. 

would  crush  Virginia's  proud  heart.  She  wrote  :  "I  was 
dead  for  him.  Life  had  been  restored  to  him  by  one  of 
God's  miracles  ;  should  he  not  enjoy  the  gift?  Should  he 
go  through  this  newly-regained  life  with  his  eye  fixed  upon 
the  ground,  gloomily  brooding  over  his  loss,  or  with  his  gaze 
on  high,  to  that  world  alone,  from  the  brink  of  which  the 
hand  of  Heaven  had  just  led  him  back  by  a  wonder  ?  I 
forgive  him  for  being  human — for  being  a  man.  But  you, 
dearest  Virginia,  do  you  forgive  him,  too,  when  his  heart 
returns  to  her  who  for  him  has  risen  from  the  dead,  has 
been  summoned  from  the  grave  ;  to  her  who  for  him  has 
given  up  all  that  adorns  this  life  and  makes  it  pleasant  ! 
You  would  never  have  been  happy  by  Hubert's  side.  A 
father's  blessing  would  ever  have  been  wanting  in  your 
marriage.  You  would  have  made  miserable  your  father, 
who  worships  you,  still  more  miserable  Alonzo,  whose  faith- 
ful heart  is  wholly  yours.  Oh,  return  to  him  !  Make  him 
happy,  be  happy  in  him  !  No  one  suspects  why  you  left 
your  home  ;  it  depends  upon  you  alone  never  to  let  any  one 
learn  the  cause. 

"  I,  too,  ask  your  forgiveness,  dearest  Virginia  !  God 
knows  I  did  not  willingly  deceive  you  !  I  urged  you  to 
listen  to  me  for  one  moment,  but  you  thrust  me  from  you. 
I  was  forced  to  be  silent,  if  I  did  not  want  to  betray  my 
secret  to  those  whose  knowledge  of  it  would  have  brought 
the  utmost  danger  to  Hubert.  Nevertheless  I  ask  you  to 
forgive  me  for  the  sorrow  which,  without  wishing  it,  I  have 
caused  you.  Write  to  me,  dearest  friend  !  Tell  me  that 
your  generous  heart  bears  your  poor  Clotilde  no  ill-will  !" 

The  letter  to  Sarah  was  easier.  Between  two  such  sim- 
ple hearts,  the  chief  end  of  both  of  which  was  to  do  what 
was  pleasant  in  the  sight  of  God,  even  though  their  ways  of 
attaining  this  end  were  different,  there  must  be  the  under- 
standing of  perfect  truth.  In  accordance  with  this,  there- 
fore, Clotilde  now  gave  Sarah  a  short,  but  complete  report, 


THE   FLIGHT.  213 

leaving  out  but  one  circumstance,  namely  that  she  had  only 
gone  to  the  prison  as  Virginia's  messenger.  For  she  wished 
not  to  expose  the  latter  in  any  way,  and  make  it  as  easy  as 
possible  for  her  to  return.  Without  telling  an  untruth,  she 
managed,  with  skilful  hand,  to  represent  the  matter  as  if  the 
plan  for  the  liberation  of  her  countryman  had  originated  with 
herself.  She  left  undecided  whether  she  had  known  before- 
hand who  he  was,  or  not.  Of  Sarah,  too,  she  earnestly 
besought  a  speedy  answer,  the  speedy  assurance  of  •  her 
pardon.  "Uncertain  as  to  her  future  residence,  she  gave  her 
the  address  of  a  German  firm  in  New  York  which  Hubert 
had  named  to  her,  to  which  to  send  letters.  It  was  the  same 
to  which  Hubert's  papers  had  been  directed,  when  sent  after 
him.  All  had  arrived  safely,  together  with  the  forgotten 
trunk  containing  his  travelling-money.  The  delay  and  care- 
lessness of  the  government  seemed  to  have  turned  out  for 
their  benefit  now.  For  Hubert's  smajl  fortune  was  the  only 
property  which,  for  the  present  at  least,  was  left  to  them, 
and  inconsiderable  as  was  the  amount  of  it,  it  yet  seemed 
enough  to  ensure  to  them  a  simple  and  independent  exist- 
ence. 

The  next  question  was,  where  to  send  the  letter  to  Vir- 
ginia. Clotilde,  with  cast-down  eyes,  gave  Hubert  the  note 
which  the  loving  girl  had  given  her  "for  Berghedorf." 
"From  this,"  she  said,  "we  can  gain  information:" 

"  Open  it,  read  it  yourself,  dearest,"  said  Hubert,  smiling; 
"  your  husband  has  no  right  to  it  any  more." 

"  It  was  written  for  you,  not  for  me." 

"  It  is  for  Berghedorf,  not  for  Hubert." 

Each  urged  the  other  ;  at  length  Hubert  conquered.  "  I 
would  propose,"  said  Clotilde,  ' '  not  to  open  it  at  all,  but  to 
send  it  back  to  the  poor  deluded  girl,  if  we  had  any  means 
of  finding  her.  But  in  the  urgent  haste  of  our  parting,  her 
plan  remained  perfectly  dark  to  me,  so  that  there  is  no  other 
way  left  to  us." 


214  THE    EXILES. 

She  then  retired  to  her  room,  broke  the  seal,  and  read, 
while  a  dark  glow  suffused  her  face,  the  few  lines  which  Vir- 
ginia had  written  with  a  trembling  hand,  and  in  the  most 
violent  excitement  of  her  heart  : — 

"  Unhappy  man,  dear  above  all  to  me  !  The  barbarians 
have  pronounced  your  sentence  ;  the  wretches  think  they 
are  going  to  degrade  you,  while  they  only  degrade,  debase 
themselves.  But  I  defy  them.  I  will  liberate  you.  Yes, 
love  shall  rescue  you.  Cease  to  torment  me  with  timid  con- 
siderations that  are  unworthy  of  a  man  like  you.  Cease  to 
speak  of  my  wealth,  which  I  despise — of  a  position  in 
society,  which  I  disdain  to  hold.  This  is  no  time  for  all  that. 
I  send  you  the  means  of  escaping  from  the  disgrace  that 
threatens  you.  Go  to  Philadelphia.  Hasten  there  to  the 

house  of  the  French  milliner,   Madame  Avalon,   55  

street.  Inquire  for  Miss  Browning  from  Rochester.  A 
former  kindness  has  put  this  woman  under  obligation  to  me. 
Berghedorf,  poor  fugitive,  what  if  you  should  find  a  friend 
there  ? — I,  too,  leave  home  to-day.  I  can  no  longer  breathe 
the  atmosphere  of  this  house.  Take  courage  !  I,  too,  will 
then  be  a  fugitive,  alone  in  the  world,  with  none  but  you  to 
rely  upon  !  Does  this  satisfy  your  pride,  cruel,  over-virtuous 
man  ? 

"  The  God  of  Love  be  with  you,  protect  you,  advise  you  I 
Till  death,  your 

"  VIRGINIA  C." 

When  Clotilde  read  the  name  of  Avalon,  she  remembered 
distinctly  having  heard  the  sisters  speak  of  this  woman. 
Virginia's  wealth  and  generosity  had,  some  yeajs  before, 
enabled  the  widow  of  one  of  her  French  teachers,  who,  by 
her  husband's  death,  had  been  thrown,  with  a  family  of 
children,  into  the  greatest  distress,  to  open  in  Philadelphia, 
where  she  had  relatives,  a  small  millinery  business,  which, 


THE    FLIGHT.  215 

by  the  woman's  activity  and  skill,  had  soon  become  one  of 
the  most  flourishing  in  the  city.  The  higher  her  fortune 
rose,  the  warmer  grew  the  gratitude  of  the  quick-feeling 
Frenchwoman  towards  the  fair  young  creature  who  had  laid 
the  foundation  for  it.  She  wrote  to  her,  sent  her  samples 
of  her  skill,  and  liked  to  boast  of  her  Charleston  customer, 
the  handsome  Miss  Castleton.  Virginia  felt  pleased  at 
having  built  herself  a  temple  in  this  grateful  heart,  gave 
orders  for  herself  and  her  acquaintances,  and  thus  aided  her 
protege  more  and  more.  In  this  woman's  gratitude  Virginia 
had  thought  she  might  place  safe  reliance. 

Enclosed  to  her,  Clotilde  now  sent  her  letter.  Virginia's 
note  she  burned. 

She  felt  calmer  when  this  was  accomplished,  and  could 
now  give  herself  up  to  sweet  communion  with  Hubert,  and 
a  cheerful  glance  into  the  future.  She  herself  told  first  how 
she  had  fared.  Her  story  was  short  and  simple.  Hubert 
wished  to  know  everything.  He  asked  about  every  detail. 
These  exact,  particular  inquiries  seemed  out  of  character  in 
him,  and  struck  Clotilde  as  singular.  When  he  put  question 
after  question  about  Alonzo,  and  listened,  with  suppressed 
emotion,  to  her  expression  of  her  admiration  of  the  noble 
youth,  she  thought  within  herself  with  surprise  :  "  Can  he 
be  jealous  ?  Could  this  trait  of  his  character  have  escaped 
me  ?"  But  of  Josepha,  too,  he  wanted  to  know  every  parti- 
cular. "  Unfortunate  woman  !"  he  exclaimed  repeatedly, 
with  a  deep,  sorrowing  pity,  and  an  earnest  sympathy 
which  could  not  but  astonish  Clotilde. 

At  length  Hubert,  too,  succeeded  in  recounting  the 
details  of  his  deliverance.  He  commenced  : — 


216  THE   EXILES. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

NEW- ENGLAND      SKETCHES. 

"  TTTHEN  they  bore  you  off,  my  Clotilde,  when  they  re- 
"  fused  me  an  entrance  into  the  saving  boat,  I  was 
seized  with  despair.  I  must  follow  you  ;  this  feeling  alone 
was  in  me.  You  say  that  one  of  the  inhuman  wretches 
crushed  my  hand,  which  had  already  seized  the  edge  of  the 
boat — that  another,  or  the  same,  dealt  me  a  blow  on  the 
head,  which  stunned  me.  It  is  only  now  that  I  learn  what 
it  was  that  lamed  my  arm  and  hand  so  long — I  had  lost  all 
recollection  of  the  cause.  But,  until  quite  lately,  I  was 
obliged  to  wear  my  left  arm  in  a  sling  ;  these  fingers, 
though  cured,  are,  as  you  see,  still  stiff  and  awkward.  I 
thought  one  of  the  beams  which  the  waves  dashed  against 
me  had  broken  my  hand.  The  dull  stupor  which  bound  my 
senses  for  so  long,  and  the  force  of  the  fever  which  for 
months  wasted  my  best  powers,  had  also  weakened  my 
memory,  and  entirely  effaced  many  circumstances  from  my 
mind. 

"  I  know  only  one  thing,  that  the  cruel  blow  did  not 
entirely  overpower  me,  that  I  drifted  about  upon  the  waves 
a  long  time,  half  unconscious,  with  corpses  and  frag- 
ments of  the  burning  ship  on  every  side.  One  of  the  latter 
I  caught  hold  of  when  my  strength  threatened  to  desert  me. 
Fear  urged  me  on,  further  and  further,  from  the  blazing 
mass  of  fire.  I  was  ignorant  whether  I  was  working  my 
way  towards  the  land,  or  whether  I  was  being  hurried  still 


NEW -ENGLAND  SKETCHES.  217 

further  on  into  the  open  sea,  A  glowing  mirror  was  all 
around  me,  reaching  to  the  horizon.  From  time  to  time  an 
immense  beam,  dashed  forward  by  the  waves,  came  behind 
me  or  alongside  of  me,  bruising  my  limbs,  or  dragging  me 
down  into  the  deep,  while  another  gigantic  billow  brought 
me  up  again.  It  was  only  in  the  nights  of  fever  which 
succeeded  my  deliverance,  that  I  became  well  conscious  of 
my  horrible  situation,  and  shuddered  at  the  recollection  of  it. 
So  long  as  I  had  to  struggle  for  my  life,  I  was  appalled  by 
nothing  around  me. 

"  Oh,  my  Clotilde,  what  is  man  I  For  the  life  that  I 
abhorred,  that  was  an  abomination  to  me,  I  fought  instinc- 
tively  with  the  fury  of  despair.  An  immense  barrel  sud- 
denly floated  «p  to  me.  It  was  probably  one  of  the  ship's 
water-casks,  which,  when  emptied  of  its  contents,  the  caution 
of  the  steward  had  induced  him  to  pitch  up  again.  I  clung 
to  it.  After  several  efforts,  I  succeeded  in  raising  myself 
upon  it.  This  gave  me  a  free  view  out  into  the  ocean.  It 
was  a  quiet  night.  This  saved  me." 

"  Oh,  Hubert,"  interrupted  Clotilde,  who  hung  breath- 
lessly upon  his  lips,  "  what  a  conflict  you  have  had  to 
undergo  I  And  yet  there  was  consolation  in  your  struggling 
itself.  I  lay  motionless,  as  if  chained.  Oh,  there  is  a 
terrible  agony  in  such  a  stupor  !  But  go  on,  go  on  1" 

"  How  long  my  precarious  bark  drifted  about,  I  cannot 
tell ;  but  day  was  already  breaking  when  I  thought  I  saw  a 
boat  at  a  distance,  and  loud  shouts  soon  after  made  me 
certain  of  it.  I  must  have  answered  with  a  cry  of  despair. 
A  vessel  lay  at  some  distance,  but  during  the  night  the 
terrible  glow,  lighting  up  an  immense  circle  around,  had 
made  known  our  fate.  Towards  morning,  when  they  came 
nearer  to  the  region  of  the  disaster,  they  sent  out  a  boat,  to 
see  if  one  or  another  poor  shipwrecked  sufferer  might  not  be 
saved.  I  was  the  only  one  whom  they  found.  They  took 
me  up,  brought  me  to  the  ship,  put  dry  clothes  on  me,  laid 
10 


218  THE   EXILES. 

me  in  one  of  their  dark  berths,  and  nursed  me  with  rough 
kindness. 

"  It  was  a  brig  from  Hallowell  in  Maine,  which  had  taken 
in  cargo  at  Apalachicola^,  and  was  now  on  the  return  voyage. 
What  an  incomprehensible,  fatal  providence  was  it,  if  you 
will  call  it  thus,  Clotilde,  that  led  you  to  the  far  south  of 
this  country,  while  winds  and  waves  seemed  willing,  pity- 
ingly, to  draw  me  after  you,  and  sent  me,  in  defiance  of  the 
kind  elements,  off  to  its  farthest  north !  Oh,  Nature, 
with  her  powers,  was  gracious  to  her  disciple.  My  only 
enemy  was  the  hand  of  man  which  thrust  me  into  the  waves, 
and  that  which  drew  me  from  them  to  lead  me  far  away 
from  yon  1" 

"  Your  divinity,"  replied  Clotilde,  gravely,  "  if  you  really 
designate  sensible  Nature  by  that  name,  has  not  proved 
true  to  us,  for  they  were  her  blind  powers  that  threatened 
destruction  to  us  more  than  once.  But  that  fatherly  care, 
which,  through  so  many  imminent  dangers,  and  through  the 
most  wonderful  entanglement  of  circumstances,  has  reunited 
us — oh,  Hubert,  what  a  stubborn  heart  must  be  yours,  if 
you  cannot  render  up  thanks  and  praise  with  me  for  this  !" 

"  Our  happiness,  my  Clotilde,"  said  Hubert,  embracing 
her  tenderly,  "  will  be  the  best  thanks,  the  best  praise  we 
can  offer  up  to  your  God  and  mine  !  But  let  me  now  once 
more  lead  you  back  into  the  night  of  my  Past,"  he  added, 
to  change  the  subject,  and  taking  no  notice  of  her  deep  sigh. 
"I  lay  for  a  long  time  stupefied,  in  dull  pain,  then  for  a  still 
longer  period  I  was  sick  unto  death,  incapable  of  moving  my 
bruised,  crushed  limbs.  The  boatswain,  who  was  the  ship's 
physician,  dressed  the  wounds  on  my  hands  and  feet.  The 
air  which  I  breathed  down  there  in  that  steerage-hold,  filled 
with  foul  odours,  could  only  make  me  worse.  Sometimes, 
When  the  sun  was  shining  bright  and  warm,  two  kind  souls 
among  the  rough  fellows  who  surrounded  me,  would  take  me 
from  that  dark  hole  and  carry  me  on  deck,  where  they  laid 


NEW-ENGLAND   SKETCHES.  219 

me  on  a  blanket  under  the  mast,  and  let  the  fresh  breezes 
play  around  me,  the  warm  sunbeams  dance  about  on  me. 
These  two  were  my  benefactors.  When  I  heard  their  rough 
voices,  when  I  felt  their  giant  arms  put  around  me,  my  heart 
begau  to  beat.  I  began  to  have  a  feeling  of  contentment 
once  more.  I  could  have  loved  those  coarse,  sooty  figures." 

Clotilde  wept  with  inward  emotion.  "And  how  long, 
poor,  poor  Franz,  did  the  voyage  last  ?" 

"  Several  weeks,  perhaps  a  month.  I  have  lost  account 
of  it.  For  when  our  ship  at  length  sailed  up  the  Kennebec 
river  and  arrived  at  Hallowell,  I  was  so  ill  that  the  captain 
thought  it  advisable  to  have  me  carried  directly  to  the  hos- 
pital which  has  been  built  by  the  State  in  the  harbour  of 
that  place,  chiefly  for  sick  sailors.  I  have  only  a  dim  recol- 
lection of  this,  but  I  was  still  conscious  enough  to  take  leave 
of  my  two  benefactors,  and  to  give  the  one  my  watch,  the 
other  the  chain  belonging  to  it,  with  my  scantily-filled  purse. 
The  captain  had  taken  charge  of  these  things  for  me.  I 
thought  I  would  have  no  more  need  for  money  and  money's 
worth. 

"  My  fever  only  now  broke  out  fairly.  Let  me  pass  over 
the  horrors  of  the  Hospital,  the  tortures  of  a  sick-bed  in  those 
tainted  dens  of  vulgarity  and  vice  !  I  should  abuse  your 
feelings  if  I  were  to  tell  you  of  these.  At  length  the  disease 
was  broken  by  the  strength  of  my  youth  and  my  constitution, 
not  by  the  art  of  the  miserable  bunglers  who  called  them- 
selves physicians.  July  had  commenced  before  I  could  leave 
the  Hospital.  I  had  asked  the  name  of  the  owner  of  the 
ship  which  had  rescued  me  ;  he  was  a  merchant,  who,  I 
thought,  must  have  business  connections  in  New  York.  I 
went  up  the  Kennebec  in  a  fishing-boat  to  Hallowell,  and 
inquired  for  Aaron  Danforth's  house.  I  was  directed  to  his 
store  in  the  compact  part  of  the  village,  where  all  the  business 
of  Hallowell,  which  is  by  no  means  inconsiderable,  is  concen- 
trated. The  pretty  towns  of  New  England  are  often  spread 


220  THE   EXILES. 

out  over  several  German  miles  of  ground,  but  it  is  only  a 
portion  of  them  that  forms  the  core,  that  is,  the  actual  "  vil- 
lage." Here  you  generally  find  the  churches  of  the  place 
close  together  ;  the  court-house,-  the  public-house,  the  bank, 
which  a  well-sized  town  does  not  like  to  be  without  ;  the 
doctor  lives  in  this  vicinity  ;  the  post-office  cannot  be  missed  ; 
but  in  particular,  the  principal  stores  are  to  be  found  here, 
which,  like  our  Pennsylvanian  ones,  unite  in  themselves  every- 
thing that  man  has  need  for,  often  the  most  heterogeneous 
articles.  Mr.  Aaron  Danforth,  too,  who  owned  several  ships 
upon  the  sea,  and  a  farm  of  four  hundred  acres  on  the  land, 
kept  such  a  store. 

"The  benches  on  the  veranda  of  the  house,  were,  as 
usual,  occupied  by  the  newspaper-readers  of  the  town,  who 
were  wont  to  assemble  here  at  this  hour,  soon  after  the 
arrival  of  the  mail.  There  was  a  striking  variety  in  the 
attitudes  of  convenience  in  which  these  individuals  were 
stretched  about  on  wooden  chairs  and  benches  fetched  from 
the  house,  chewing  tobacco  or  smoking  cigars,  that  would 
have  amused  me,  could  I  have  repressed  a  kind  of  false 
shame  at  going  among  a  number  of  well-dressed  men,  with 
the  appearance  which  I  presented.  My  clothes,  of  which  all 
that  was  not  entirely  useless  had  been  kept  and  given  back 
to  me,  coarsely  mended,  had  probably  not  gained  much  by 
the  salt-water  bath.  The  warden  had  lent  me  a  pair  of  old 
boots,  which  hung  about  my  feet,  and  a  cap  which  I  could 
not  put  on  my  head  without  disgust.  With  all  this  my  ashy 
face  and  rough  beard — you  smile  through  your  tears,  my 
sweet  Clotilde — but  believe  me,  I  looked  very  like  a  vagabond, 
and  in  Europe  every  civilized  person  would  have  kept  out  of 
my  way. 

"  When,  in  almost  unintelligible  English,  I  inquired  for 
Mr.  Danforth,  the  eyes  of  all  the  readers  were  suddenly  raised 
to  me,  but  immediately  dropped  upon  the  papers  again.  One 
of  the  men,  however,  rose,  gave  me  a  polite  'good  morning, 


NEW-ENGLAND   SKETCHES.  221 

sir,'  and  went  with  me,  without  a  moment's  delay,  into  the 
store. 

"  This  real,  true,  humane  civility,  this  regard  for  mis- 
fortune, this  respect  of  human  rights,  is  the  noblest  trait  of 
character  in  the  Americans.  Consequently  I  have  never  met 
with  a  cringing,  outwardly  base  individual  of  this  nation. 
We  in  Europe  can  hardly  form  an  idea  of  the  negative  dig- 
nity of  a  man  educated  as  a  democratic  republican.  For  he 
who  only  artificially  appropriates  the  independent  position  of 
a  republican,  is  in  great  danger  of  giving  himself  an  air  of 
haughtiness  and  pride.  A  noble,  distinguished  deportment, 
ease  and  refinement  of  manners,  such  as  only  the  higher 
grades  of  society  can  teach,  but  particularly  a  certain  outward 
grace,  you  will  perhaps  find  more  rarely  here,  even  among 
the  most  cultivated  men,  than  with  any  nation  of  the  old 
world  ;  but  instead  of  this,  a  manly  dignity  of  bearing  and 
demeanour  in  thousands  of  instances,  in  every  circle  of 
society  ;  even  among  the  poorest  and  lowest  that  quiet  calm- 
ness, that  fearless  bearing,  which  are  the  stamp  of  the  feeling 
of  their  dignity  as  men,  and  of  the  elevating  consciousness 
of  having  no  power  over  them  but  the  law." 

"  It  is  only  to  be  wished  sometimes,"  said  Clotilde,  "that 
the  consciousness  of  this  superiority,  at  least,  were  more 
lively  within  them." 

"  You  are  right,"  replied  Hubert.  "  The  regard  for  the 
law  ought  to  be  much  stronger,  particularly  in  the  Eastern, 
more  civilized  states.  But  when,  in  the  primitive  state  of 
things  at  the  far  West,  where  immense  distances  and  the 
imperfection  of  incipient  institutions  sometimes  check  the 
regular  efficacy  of  the  law,  man's  natural  sense  of  justice 
often  breaks  out,  foaming  over,  and  bursting  its  vessel ; 
when,  among  social  conditions  which  in  some  parts  resemble, 
in  many  respects,  more  those  of  the  European  Middle  Ages 
than  a  civilized  state,  popular  justice,  in  the  hands  of  the 
worthiest  men,  sometimes  anticipates  a  hardly-established 


222  THE   EXILES. 

legal  jurisdiction — this  should  not  be  judged  too  partially, 
too  severely,  and  particularly  we  should  not,  in  ignorant, 
wilful  confusion,  convenient  to  a  calumniation  of  democracy, 
put  it  to  the  account  of  the  older  states,  which  are  the  only 
ones  that  can  be  compared  to  those  of  Europe." 

"  You  would  not  justify  the  arbitrariness  and  self-aid  of 
the  Western  states,  Hubert?  If  you  do  not  allow  the 
nobility  the  right  of  decision  by  the  sword,  would  not  un- 
authorized criminal  jurisdiction  in  the  hands  of  the  people  be 
far  more  objectionable,  which  is  not  sanctioned  by  any  ancient 
usage,  any  custom  of  our  fathers  ?" 

"  Certainly  not  justify  it,  only  excuse  and  explain  it  a* 
self-aid.  I  have  already  granted,  however,  that  even  in  the 
older  civilized  states  of  North  America,  the  respect  of  the 
law  is  by  no  means  cultivated,  by  education  and  strictness, 
as  much  as  it  ought  to  be.  And  this  may  indeed  be  a  par- 
tial consequence  of  the  universal  suffrage  system,  which 
includes  almost  all  posts  and  offices.  For  the  fear  of  offend- 
ing the  voters,  unfortunately,  has  already  too  often  tempted 
the  executors  of  the  law  to  so  culpable  a  lenity  and  indul- 
gence, that  it  can  hardly  be  explained  even  by  the  powerful 
passion  of  political  ambition,  which  dreads  a  loss  of  its 
popularity.  For  the  healthy,  vigorous,  good  sense  of  the 
American  people  teaches  them,  after  all,  to  recognise  the 
right  way,  and  even  if  the  vanity  of  the  mass  is  flattered  by 
the  acknowledgment  of  their  power,  it  will  never  gain  their 
esteem  for  the  candidate  who  courts  their  favour." 

"This  insufficient  respect  for  the  law,"  said  Clotilde, 
"is  probably  in  close  connection  with  the  decided  want  of 
reverence  which  characterizes  so  strikingly  every  relation  in 
this  country.  And  it  was  just  the  grand  and  touching 
reverential  feeling,  the  pietas,  of  the  ancients,  which  balanced 
so  beautifully  the  earnest  sense  of  freedom  in  the  Roman  and 
Spartan  youth.  They  honoured  the  aged,  the  experienced; 
the  laws  were  sacred  to  them,  because  their  fathers  had  given 


NEW -ENGLAND  SKETCHES.  223 

them.  It  was  the  concentrated  wisdom  of  their  Past  Ages, 
to  which,  in  reverential  awe,  they  .subjected  their  own  youth- 
ful dreams." 

Hubert  smiled.  "  Very  well,"  he  said,  "  only  go  on  in 
this  strain,  and  you  will  soon  be  in  the  ranks  of  those  who 
sent  me  to  the  fortress.  For  the  present  let  me  return  to 
Hallowell.  Where  was  I  ?" 

"You  had  just  entered  the  store  of  the  ship-owner. 
How  was  it,  dear  Hubert,  was  he  not  only  polite,  was  he 
also  kind?  Did  he  assist  you?" 

"He  looked  so  dry  and  unimpassioned  that  it  would 
hardly  have  been  advisable  to  rely  on  his  pity  alone,  which, 
fortunately,  I  did  not  need.  A  tall,  gaunt  man,  hardly 
forty  years  old,  with  a  well-formed  face,  over  the  sharp  out- 
lines of  which  a  loose,  sallow  skin  was  drawn;  but  there  was 
thought  on  his  brow,  his  eyes  were  searching,  overshadowed 
by  thick,  black  eyebrows,  the  nose  finely  cut ;  the  lips  very 
thin,  and  the  teeth  spoilt  by  tobacco-chewing.  I  should  have 
taken  him  for  at  least  fifty. 

"  I  disclosed  to  him  that  I  was  the  stranger  who,  by  a 
fortunate  accident,  had  been  saved  on  one  of  his  ships  ;  that 
I  was  naturally  without  means  at  the  present  moment,  and 
therefore  would  request  him  to  advance  me  a  hundred 
dollars,  for  which  I  •offered  to  give  him  security  in  a  draft 
on  the  firm  of  Schroder  &  Co.  in  New- York,  who  must, 
before  this,  have  received  my  money  and  effects. 

"  He  listened  with  some  effort,  for  my  English.  I  suppose, 
was  hardly  intelligible  ;  and  besides,  foreigners  are  rarely 
seen  in  this  part  of  the  country.  He  stood  before  me,  his 
hat  on  his  head,  his  coat  thrown  back,  with  both  thumbs  in 
the  armholes  of  his  vest. 

"When  I  stopped  speaking,  a  considerable  pause  ensued, 
during  which  he  measured  me,  with  a  long  look,  from  head 
to  foot,  and  then  kept  his  eyes  fixed  searchingly  on  my 
face. 


224  THE   EXILES. 

"  'And  if  Schroder  &  Co.  do  not  acknowledge  your 
draft  ?'  he  at  length  asked,  drily. 

"  '  They  must,  they  will  acknowledge  it.  They  have  in 
their  possession  more  than  a  hundredfold  the  value  of  the 
sum  in  my  property.' 

"  '  Can  you  prove  that  ?'  asked  the  Yankee,  with  perfect 
equanimity.  But  there  was  nothing  harsh,  nothing  offensive 
in  his  manner. 

"  I  felt  only  too  well  that  he  was  right.  '  It  is  out  of  my 
power/  I  said,  after  a  short  hesitation,  and  my  face  may 
have  shown  an  expression  of  deep  pain.  For  my  only  wish 
at  present  was  soon  to  reach  Xew  York,  to  endeavour,  by 
the  papers,  the  ship-news,  and  in  every  way  possible,  to  gain 
intelligence  of  you,  if  you  were  still  living,  as  well  as  to  let 
you  know  that  I  was  saved.  The  warden  of  the  hospital, 
and  also  the  doctor,  had  told  me  that  there  was  little  chance 
for  this  in  Hallowell— that,  besides  those  of  the  county,  only 
Boston  papers,  which  gave  little  news  of  German  ships,  were 
kept  there — that  nowhere  but  in  Xew  York  could  I  find 
older  papers,  which  would  perhaps  contain  an  advertisement 
for  me — that  only  there  I  could  hope  to  gain  the  necessary 
information. 

"  '  How  long  will  it  be,'  I  finally  asked,  '  before  you  can 
have  an  answer  ?' 

"  '  Five  days — it  may  be  a  week.' 

"  '  Let  ns  hope  the  former  !  Write  without  delay.  I 
suppose  I  can  endure  five  days  more  of  misery." 

"  The  man  was  silent  for  a  while.  He  pulled  out  a 
pocket-knife  and  began  paring  his  nails.  At  length  he  said: 
'  I'll  tell  you  what,  young  man,  I'll  make  you  a  proposal. 
I'll  supply  you  with  decent  clothes  and  linen  from  my  store, 
for  I  can  see  well  enough  that  you've  known  better  days.  I 
will  take  you  home  with  me,  and  keep  you  there  till  the 
answer  comes,  or  longer,  if  you  like  Hallowell,  and  you  can 
make  up  for  the  board  and  the  price  of  the  clothes  by  giving 


NEW-ENGLAND   SKETCHES.  225 

my  children  lessons  in  German.  Perhaps  you  understand 
French,  too.  And  music  I'm  sure  you  know,  for  you're  a 
German  ;  there,  is  a  great  want  of  teachers  of  the  modern 
languages  and  the  fine  arts  here  in  Maine,  though  our 
schools  are  excellent.' 

"  I  hardly  trusted  my  ears.  '  What !'  I  cried,  '  you  will 
not  lend  me  a  paltry  hundred  dollars,  and  are  yet  willing  to 
introduce  me  into  your  sanctum,  your  family-circle  ?' 

"  '  That  is  my  own  affair.  In  business  I  am  cautious  ;  as 
a  man,  confiding.  I  like  your  face,  but  your  case  seems  to 
me  doubtful.' 

"  '  But  what  would  your  children  learn  of  me  in  a  few 
days  ?' 

"  '  Perhaps  you  will  be  contented  with  us  and  stay  longer. 
Inquiring  minds,  however,  such  as  my  children  all  have, 
particularly  the  girls,  can  lay  a  good  foundation  even  in 
a  few  days.  At  any  rate,  they  can  acquire  the  pronuncia- 
tion. My  eldest  daughter  is  soon  going  to  enter  a  young 
ladies'  seminary  as  a  teacher.  She  is  only  engaged  for 
Latin,  Mathematics,  Philosophy,  and  French  ;  but  if  she 
can  have  a  German  class  besides,  it  will  be  very  much  to  her 
advantage.' 

"  Deay  Clotilde,  melancholy  as  was  my  mood,  I  believe 
my  lips,  nevertheless,  were  drawn  into  a  smile. 

"  '  And  you  think,'  I  asked,  '  that  I  could,  in  a  week  at 
the  most,  teach  your  daughter  enough  German  to  enable 
her  to  teach  it  herself  ?' 

"'Why  not?  Whatever  we  have  really  learnt,  we  can 
tMcli.  He  that  possesses,  can  give,  that's  a  fact.  And  then 
we  have  excellent  text-books  ;  and  if  she  is  only  familiar 
with  the  pronunciation,  she  can  make  herself  useful  to 
others,  too,  by  the  aid  of  a  grammar  and  dictionary.' 

"  Astonished  as  I  was,  I  gladly  accepted  his  proposal. 
For  what  else  remained  to  me  ?  He  then  selected  for  me 
himself  the  necessary  articles  of  clothing,  and  I  transformed 
10* 


226  THE   EXILES. 

myself  in  the  back  room  of  the  store,  as  I  did  yesterday  in 
the  village  which  was  our  first  resting-place.  When  we  had 
written  the  necessary  letters,  and  I  had  paid  a  visit  to  the 
barber,  Mr.  Danforth  introduced  me  to  his  family. 

"  As  is  frequently  the  case  with  New-England  towns, 
Hallowell  is  half  city,  half  village.  It  combines  many  ad- 
vantages of  the  former  with  all  those  of  the  latter  ;  that  is, 
the  conveniences  of  civilization,  schools,  stores,  markets, 
society,  with  fresh  air,  room  for  exercise,  and  freedom  of 
intercourse.  The  European  influence,  which,  from  the  press 
of  immigration,  has  already  impaired  the  national  character 
of  even  the  smaller  towns  of  the  Eastern  and  Middle  States 
to  some  degree,  had  not  yet  penetrated  here.  If  any  effect 
of  the  kind  was  felt,  it  came  from  Canada. 

"  Aaron  Danforth's  house,  white  as  snow,  with  green 
blinds  and  a  portico,  was  prettily  situated  on  an  elevation  ; 
little  shade  around  it,  for  little  is  needed  in  the  North,  and 
the  American,  who  neither  knows  nor  practises,  even  in 
summer,  the  cheerful  custom  of  sitting,  working,  eating, 
drinking,  or  living  in  the  open  air,  has  little  use  for  it. 
Behind  it  lay  a  flower-garden,  which  his  daughters  had  the 
care  of,  and  the  gay  dahlias  stood  arrayed  in  all  their  splen- 
dour. The  Danforths,  as  I  only  later  learned  to  acknowledge 
fully,  were  a  New-England  family  of  the  best  kind.  They 
were  held  in  some  importance  in  the  neighbourhood,  not  only 
for  their  individual  worth,  but  as  descendants  of  the  old 
vice-governor  Thomas  Danforth,  who  had  played  a  promi- 
nent part  in  the  former  history  of  Maine  ;  for  an  honourable 
descent  is  held  in  high  regard  here  as  well  as  everywhere 
else.  Aaron  Danforth  himself  was  a  true  Yankee  mixture  of 
generosity  and  paltriness,  of  bold  resolve  and  close  calcula- 
tion ;  alternately  liberal  and  miserly,  never  dreading  the 
greatest  sacrifices  for  certain  aims,  but  never  disdaining  the 
smallest  gain.  In  the  market,  he  could  haggle  and  chaffer 
about  a  few  cents  ;  but  if  any  of  his  hired  men  did  more 


NEW-ENGLAND  SKETCHES.  227 

work  than  had  been  agreed  for,  he  raised  his  wages  of  his 
own  accord.  He  could  estimate  exactly  the  money-value 
which  each  of  his  servants  or  labourers  had  for  him,  and 
would  have  thought  it  just  as  dishonest  not  to  repay  them 
for  their  services,  as  if  he  had  cheated  them  in  trade.  The 
English  "  what  is  he  worth?1''  which  only  refers  to  property, 
finds  a  different  application  in  this  land  of  labour  and 
activity.  Every  one  is  worth  as  much  as  he  can  earn. 

"  Aaron  Dauforth's  liberality  showed  itself,  too,  in  his 
ample  contributions  to  all  institutions  for  the  public  good, 
particularly  improvements  connected  with  church  and  school; 
for  he,  with  his  wife  and  four  or  five  of  his  children  were 
members  of  the  church.  But  he  was  very  particular  that 
those  richer  than  he  should,  in  proportion,  contribute  more  ; 
and  was  capable  of  withdrawing  his  name  from  a  subscription 
if  a  rich  neighbour  would  not  pay — though  the  object  of  the 
collection  was  for  his  own  benefit  too — only  to  force  bun,  in  a 
shrewd  way,  to  bring  forth  his  treasures.  With  all  his 
interest  in  the  public  good,  he  naturally  considered  chiefly 
the  benefit  of  his  family,  and  was  always  ready,  with  an 
admirable  characteristic  tact,  to  take  advantage  of  the 
smallest  circumstance,  whenever  he  could  do  so  without 
injuring  others. 

"  Xext  to  his  business,  his  family  were  all  in  all  to  him, 
though,  nevertheless,  he  saw  but  little  of  them.  For  he  was 
one  of  the  magnates  of  the  place,  and,  besides  the  claims 
made  upon  him  by  his  store  and  his  business-office,  he  had 
many  others,  as  president  of  the  bank,  chairman  of  the  in* 
surance  company,  treasurer  of  the  savings'  bank,  elder  of 
the  church,  and  committee  member  of  I  don't  know  how 
many  societies.  With  all  this  he  had  to  go  to  market  in  the 
morning,  to  buy  the  necessary  supply  of  meat — the  vege- 
tables,  which  were  raised  in  the  garden,  and  the  puddings 
r.nd  pies  with  which  the  table  was  loaded  every  day,  were 
left  to  the  females — and  many  a  night  was  obliged  to  carry 


228  THE   EXILES. 

about  the  crying  baby,  only  to  give  the  poor  weary  mother 
some  rest,  as  in  the  night  the  little  precious  favourite  could 
not  be  trusted  to  the  girl  of  thirteen,  who,  as  is  the  case  here 
in  the  country,  even  in  the  wealthy  families,  made  its  nurse. 

"  But  if  Aaron  Danforth  ever  happened  to  have  a  free 
evening,  and  staid  at  home  after  tea,  he  could  be  sure  to 
have  enough  claims  upon  him  to  occupy  tenfold  the  time. 
Here  there  was  a  lock  broken,  which  he  was  asked  to  mend, 
here  a  drawer  so  warped,  that  the  united  female  strength  of 
the  house  had  not  been  sufficient  to  open  it,  unless  something 
was  shaved  off.  Even  the  servants  came  and  asked  Mr.  Dan- 
forth for  advice,  whether  the  coffee-mill  could  not  be  screwed 
tighter  ;  or  begged  him  to  regulate  the  old  kitchen-clock. 
Nothing  could  have  induced  him  to  send  for  the  necessary 
mechanics  to  make  these  little  domestic  repairs,  which  the 
various  articles  of  every  household  need  from  time  to  time. 
The  few  dollars  which  he  saved  annually  by  his  home  activity, 
were  his  pride,  and  gave  him  more  pleasure  than  the  thousands 
that  he  gained  in  business. 

"  The  mistress  of  the  house,  a  woman  of  hardly  thirty- 
eight,  but  prematurely  faded  and  withered  by  cares  and 
confinements  without  number,  still  bore  traces  of  great  beauty; 
particularly  when  she  went  to  church  of  a  Sunday,  in  a  silk 
dress,  with  lace  collar  and  cuffs,  a  gold  watch  and  chain, 
decked  in  a  fashionable  shawl  and  bonnet,  she  might  have 
vied  in  dignity  and  carriage  with  the  finest  lady.  But  she 
had  long  retired  from  the  stage  for  the  benefit  of  her  grown- 
up daughters.  I  saw  little  of  her.  In  the  morning  she  was  in 
the  kitchen  or  the  nursery  ;  in  the  afternoon  she  was  baking, 
or  washing  laces  and  muslins  for  '  the  girls,  who  had  not  yet 
learnt  to  do  it,  and  would  only  spoil  every  thing,'  as  she  said, 
or  she  was  in  the  nursery  again.  Though  she  was  my  bene- 
factress, she  yet  never  ceased  to  be  very  reserved  and  timid 
towards  me.  For  the  American  women  lose,  with  the 
consciousness  of  youth  and  beauty,  also  their  assurance  of 


NEW- ENGLAND   SKETCHES.  229 

demeanour.  They  feel  that  they  are  wanting  in  that  which 
chiefly — not  to  say  alone — gives  them  importance  in  society, 
as  it  has  formed  itself  in  this  young  country.  Young  Amer- 
ican women,  particularly  American  girls,  are  mostly  bold, 
noisy,  greedy  of  admiration,  often  presumptuous  in  the  con- 
sciousness of  their  charms  ;  the  older  ones  are  generally  serious, 
reserved,  worn  out,  with  few  higher  interests  but  those  con- 
nected with  the  church.  These  remarks  may  be  more  adapted 
•to  the  villages  and  country-towns  than  to  larger  cities,  parti- 
cularly the  seaports,  where  nationality  has  been  kept  less  pure, 
but  on  the  whole  you  will  find  them  confirmed  everywhere. 

"  The  union  of  this  excellent  couple  was  blessed  with 
thirteen  living  children.  In  their  names  the  Old  Testament 
seemed  to  have  found  living  representatives.  There  was  an 
Ichabod,  a  Joshua,  a  Moses,  a  Caleb,  a  Sarah,  a  Rebecca. 
Among  these  the  spice  of  a  few  Anglo-Saxon  names,  as  Edith 
and  Edward.  Two  of  the  little  girls,  after  the  common  custom, 
had  been  baptized  by  the  family  names  of  friends  and  rela- 
tives, and  were  called,  in  common  conversation,  Eliza  Hard- 
iman  and  Mary  Jane  Dixon.  The  name  of  the  latter,  however, 
which  had  been  given  her  by  Mrs.  Danforth's  father,  was  found 
rather  too  long  for  family  use,  and  the  pretty  little  thing  was 
generally  called  Dixy  at  home,  and  at  school  Dixy  Danforth. 
The  smallest,  though  already  eight  months  old,  had  not  yet 
been  baptized  ;  it  was  known  by  no  other  name  than  '  the 
baby/  which  in  all  New-England  families  belongs  to  the 
youngest  child,  and  in  jest  and  earnest  is  often  carried  on  to 
later  years. 

"  The  three  eldest  sons,  all  fine  youths,  had  already  left 
home  ;  the  second,  his  mother's  pride,  was  at  Yale  College, 
and  was  to  enter  the  seminary  at  Bangor  next  fall,  to  study 
for  the  ministry.  The  prospect  of  soon  having  her  favourite 
near  her,  and  the  hope  cherished  by  the  congregation  of  some 
time  hearing  the  Word  of  God  dispensed  by  those  beloved 
lips,  brought  lustre  to  the  half-dimmed  eye  of  the  mother,  and 


230  THE    EXILES. 

threw,  when  she  spoke  of  it,  a  warm  ray  of  love  and  life  into 
her  manner,  which  only  timidity  made  staid  and  cold.  One 
of  the  other  two  sons  managed  the  farm,  the  other  had  a 
situation  in  a  store  in  Boston.  They  were  less  frequently 
mentioned. 

"  But  the  true  ornament  of  the  house  was  the  cluster  of 
children  still  under  its  roof,  from  the  eldest  daughter  of  nine- 
teen to  the  nameless,  idolized  'baby';  all  well-built,  blooming, 
and  more  or  less  intelligent ;  the  little  girls,  five  in  number, 
clever,  and  enlivened  throughout  by  a  sort  of  wild  grace, 
already  quite  arrogant  in  the  presentiment  of  future  conquests; 
the  boys  cold,  decided,  with  much  practical  skill,  men  in  min- 
iature. It  amused  me  to  hear  Joshua  and  Caleb,  the  eldest 
of  whom  had  hardly  passed  his  twelfth  year,  but  who  were 
both  zealous  newspaper-readers,  exchange  political  opinions. 
The  eldest  would  argue  for  '  Old  Hickory,'  the  popular  name 
for  General  Jackson,  the  younger  for  the  Bank  and  Nicholas 
Biddle — whom  his  opponent  designated  by  the  people's  witti- 
cism, '  Old  Nick ' — apparently  without  the  least  passion,  and 
'with  a  sharpness  of  logic  surprising  in  boys  of  their  age,  until, 
•suddenly,  one  or  the  other  found  it  impossible  to  proceed  with 
mental  weapons,  and  struck  his  opponent  a  blow,  upon  which 
the  combat  ended  in  common  boyish  fight. 

"  The  boys,  however,  were  early  taught  to  be  polite  and 
considerate  towards  their  sisters.  If  in  Germany,  in  families 
of  the  middle  class,  where  children  are  growing  up,  the  sisters 
have  only  too  often  to  wait  upon  their  brothers,  to  attend  at 
table,  to  suffer  themselves  to  be  sent  to  and  fro,  the  case  was 
just  the  opposite  here.  The  boys  were  used  for  little  messages 
to  the  kitchen  ;  one  of  them  had  to  pour  out  the  water, 
another  hand  around  the  bread  ;  if  an  unexpected  guest  made 
the  table  too  full,  a  couple  of  boys  were  sent  to  a  side-table, 
while  the  little  girls  kept  their  places.  This  relation  goes 
through  all  classes  of  society  in  the  United  States  ;  the  young 
girls  grow  up  in  the  consciousness  of  finding  in  the  politeness 


NEW-ENGLAND   SKETCHES.  231 

and  considerate  treatment  of  the  men  a  sure  and  willing  sup- 
port of  their  weakness  ;  it  is  doubtless  partly  this  conscious- 
ness which  already  very  early  draws  off  from  them  the  stiffness, 
awkwardness,  and  embarrassment  which  frequently  disfigures 
the  young  girls  of  other  nations,  particularly  among  the 
labouring  classes.  For  nothing  in  the  world  gives  us  more 
freedom  and  ease  of  manner  than  the  conviction  that  we  may 
rely  upon  the  esteem  of  those  surrounding  us. 

"  European  travellers  have  often  objected  to  the  excessive 
politeness  of  the  Americans  towards  their  women,  but  par- 
ticularly to  the  arrogance  with  which  it  is  demanded  by  the 
latter  as  their  right.  It  may  be  that  some  of  them  behave 
like  spoilt  children.  I  myself  have  seen  them  accept  certain 
civilities,  that  require  no  particular  sacrifice,  without  a  word 
of  thanks,  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  reward  even  such  as 
wer.e  connected  with  some  degree  of  it,  as  for  instance  the 
relinquishing  of  a  good  seat,  with  only  a  condescending 
nod. 

"In  New  York  I  was  once,  on  a  hot  day,  riding  in  an 
omnibus  with  several  men,  when  two  middle-aged  ladies, 
elegantly  dressed,  got  in,  who,  instead  of  immediately  seating 
themselves  on  the  empty  seat,  on  which  the  sun  was  shining, 
remained  standing  at  the  door,  and  looked  very  hard  at  the 
row  of  gentlemen  who  were  sitting  in  the  shade.  An 
accidental  inattention  was  the  cause  of  none  of  them  stirring 
and  offering  them. his  seat.  The  ladies  were  at  length  obliged 
to  take  their  places  on  the  sunny  seat,  turning  up  their  noses 
arid  exchanging  glances,  while  they  took  care,  by  covering 
each  others'  shoulders  with  doublings  of  shawls  and  pocket- 
handkerchiefs,  to  make  the  coarse  sex  opposite  them,  con- 
scious of  their  sin  of  omission." 

"Perhaps,"  said  Clotilde,  "it  was  just  the  pretensions 
which  they  displayed  so  openly,  that  induced  the  gentlemen 
not  to  practise  their  usual  gallantry  for  once." 

"  May  be,"  replied  Hubert ;  "  I  know  at  least  that  their 


232  THE   EXILES. 

conduct  kept  me  in  undisturbed  possession  of  my  seat.  But 
the  Americans  are  accustomed  to  look  upon  even  the  exagge- 
rated pretensions  of  the  ladies  with  smiling  indulgence.  The 
public  attempts  at  Emancipation  of  Women,  for  instance, 
which  the  men  of  Europe,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  per- 
verted heads,  have  received  with  disgust  and  displeasure, 
have  in  America  never  excited  any  sensation  but  a  good- 
natured  ridicule.  You  used  an  expression,  however,  dearest 
Clotilde,  which  seems  to  me  not  quite  appropriate.  The 
deference  which  the  American  pays  to  the  female  sex,  should 
not  be  denominated  gallantry.  It  has,  rather  for  its  founda- 
tion the  protecting  forbearance  of  the  strong  for  the  weak  ; 
it  has,  with  all  its  civility,  something  of  condescension.  From 
the  mere  way  of  an  American's  offering  his  arm  to  a  lady,  she 
can  feel  that  he  does  not  request  of  her  a  favour,  but  rather 
offers  her  a  support,  a  defence.  Just  because  the  respect 
which  he  shows  to  Woman,  is  not  gallantry,  it  extends  not 
only  to  every  age,  but  also  to  all  classes  of  society.  The  most 
aristocratic  dandy  treats  his  washerwoman,  his  chambermaid, 
with  indulgent  politeness,  and  would  be  ready  to  help  her,  in 
case  he  should,  for  instance,  see  her  carrying  a  table,  a 
trunk,  or  anything  which  he  thought  beyond  her  strength. 
Gallantry  is  a  blossom  of  petrifying  culture  ;  but  you  will 
find  among  American  woodcutters  and  farmers  comparatively 
the  same  civility  and  deferential  consideration  to  the  female 
sex,  that  ornaments  the  most  refined  circles  of  the  seaports. 
The  fundamental  principle  of  this  esteem  is  that  woman,  as 
weaker  and  more  delicate  than  man,  shall  be  spared  every- 
thing that  requires  bodily  exertion,  that  is  coarse  and  unclean, 
that  exposes  her  to  the  public  eye,  in  short,  all  that  lowers 
her,  that  robs  her  of  the  charm  of  her  sex,  the  tenderest 
womanliness.  The  travelling  American  is  startled  at  seeing 
European  women  towing  boats,  at  the  cries  of  peddling  girls, 
at  the  horrible  figures  of  the  old  coal-carriers.  Among  the 
women  who,  in  seaports,  keep  street-stalls  with  fruit  and  cake, 


NEW -ENGLAND    SKETCHES.  233 

you  never  find  an  American.  An  American  woman,  be  she 
ever  so  poor,  would  never  appear  in  the  street  unprotected 
by  a  bonnnet.  Field-labour  is  never  done  by  women  ;  they 
are  never  required  to  carry  burdens  of  any  kind  ;  in  vain  you 
will  seek  among  them  the  mahogany-coloured  cheeks,  the 
broad,  protruding  shoulder-blades  of  our  peasant  women.  In 
their  domestic  activity,  women  in  American  country-towns 
and  villages  are  inferior  to  those  of  no  other  nation,  if  I 
except,  at  the  most,  the  Germans.  Washing,  cooking,  baking, 
sewing,  sweeping,  and  particularly  the  care  of  the  children 
of  both  sexes,  these  are  their  sphere  ;  but  all  activity  directed 
outward,  all  that  requires  physical  force,  a  defying  contact 
with  the  rough  world,  belongs  to  man. 

"  I  have  hardly  a  doubt  that  this  noble,  generous  defer- 
ence to  woman,  in  which  the  Americans  have  so  far  preceded 
the  English,  who  might  themselves  serve  as  an  example  to  the 
Germans  in  this  respect,  has  its  origin  in  the  state  of  affairs 
among  the  old  colonists.  The  whole  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury had  to  pass,  before  it  became  possible  to  attend  to  all 
outward  business,  such  as  field-labour,  marketing,  building, 
etc.,  without  danger  of  being  attacked  by  the  Indians.  The 
houses  stood  isolated  ;  even  the  fields  of  the  nearest  neigh- 
bours were  often  many  miles  apart.  The  women  naturally 
remained  in  their  inner  sphere,  and,  if  they  even  undertook 
any  outward  activity,  were  always  in  need  of  male  protection. 

"  The  dependence  in  which  the  female  sex  was  thereby  kept, 
was,  it  is  true,  very  unfavourable  to  its  rightful  position,  for 
the  same  cause  was  probably  at  the  bottom  of  the  circum- 
stance, that  the  old  English  laws,  which  limit  the  natural 
human  rights  of  women,  by  declaring  a  wife  as  almost  in- 
capable of  earning  and  holding  property,  are  still  retained 
in  most  of  the  States.  But  the  influence  on  the  social  posi- 
tion of  the  sex  was  the  more  favourable.  Woman,  with  the 
more  care  she  had  to  be  guarded,  protected  from  danger, 
became  also  more  and  more  an  object  of  veneration;  and,  as 


234  THE   EXILES. 

dignity  of  deportment  can  also  be  only  furthered  by  a  dignified 
treatment,  this  could  not  but  contribute  to  heighten  the 
natural  beauty  of  Anglo-American  women  by  moral  grace, 
and  therefore  confirm  them  more  and  more  in  their  honour- 
able position. 

"  The  high  regard  which  is  paid  to  woman  in  this  country, 
has  a  particularly  elevating  influence  on  the  position  of  an 
unmarried  female,  and  ensures  to  her,  apparently  at  least,  a 
greater  degree  of  independence  than  she  can  enjoy  in  any 
other  country.  Apparently,  I  say,  for  you  will  find  that  in 
reality  custom  allows  her  much  less  liberty  in  acting  for 
herself,  than,  for  instance,  in  Germany  and  England,  although 
she  will  perhaps  feel  the  more  independent,  because  she  is 
conscious  of  being  able  to  find,  at  any  moment,  a  sure  support 
in  the  ready  politeness  of  the  men." 

"  Well,  and  the  married  women  ?"  asked  Clotilde. 

"  In  the  conjugal  relation,"  replied  Hubert,  "  the  peculiar 
position  of  American  woman  manifests  itself  still  more  de- 
cidedly. She  is,  in  a  certain  sense,  the  queen  of  the  house  ; 
like  the  husband,  she  has  adopted  the  habit  of  speaking  of 
their  common  property  as  if  it  were  exclusively  her  own  ; 
talks  of  my  house,  my  servants,  my  horses  ;  it  is  in  her  name 
alone  that  company  is  invited,  she  alone  selects  the  schools 
for  the  children  ;  in  short,  you  can  have  a  sort  of  inter- 
course with  her  for  years,  and  not  know  but  what  she  is  a 
widow,  and  the  Mr.  A.  or  B.  whom  she  mentions  occasionally, 
her  major-domo.  If  you  examine  the  matter  more  closely, 
you  will  of  course  find  out  the  true  state  of  things.  Xo  one 
who  knows  the  American  well,  will  doubt  his  unsubmissive 
and  manly  character.  With  his  busy  thoughts  diverted  to 
outward  things,  and  living  only  too  often  in  a  sphere  of 
mental  activity  which  is  totally  foreign  to  his  wife,  he  gladlv 
yields  to  her  the  lionours  of  the  house,  and  willingly  takes 
upon  himself  those  of  the  household  duties  which  might  be 
disagreeable  to  her,  such  as  going  to  market,  buying  stores 


NEW-ENGLAND   SKETCHES.  235 

of  provisions,  and  particularly  the  payment  of  bills.  With 
protecting,  forbearing  indulgence,  he  would  spare  her  every- 
thing troublesome,  everything  ignoble.  The  dust  of  the 
ground  must  not  soil  her  tender  feet.  He  would  wish  to 
bear  her  through  life  upon  his  hands." 

"  And  you,  dear  Franz,"  interrupted  Clotilde,  with  a 
smile,  "  would  not  you,  though  a  German,  wish  to  do  like- 
wise ?" 

"No,"  said  Hubert,  turning  an  indescribable  look  upon 
her,  "  I  would  take  her  to  my  bosom  !*  You,  my  Clotilde, 
must  feel  that  such  a  relation,  though  in  accordance  with  the 
generosity  of  man,  is  by  no  means  so  with  the  dignity  of 
woman.  My  wife  must  not  be  to  me  merely  the  petted  play- 
thing of  my  idle  hours,  not  merely  an  entertaining  companion 
when  I  wish  to  rest  from  the  vexations  of  labour,  not  only 
the  partner  of  my  pleasures,  over  whom  it  must  be  my  en- 
deavour to  spread  a  cloudless  sky.  My  wife  must  be  my 
companion  in  joy  and  sorrow,  in  misery  and  death.  She 
must  be  my  confidant,  my  adviser,  my  friend  in  the  highest 
sense  of  the  word.  She  must  know  everything  that  occupies 
my  thoughts,  my  disappointments  as  well  as  my  successes. 
On  her  loving  bosom  I  will  rest  my  head  when  it  aches  with 
the  weight  of  care,  and  her  sympathy,  by  lightening  the 
burden,  will  relieve  the  pain.  Again  and  again  you  hear 
the  American  women,  particularly  those  in  the  large  sea- 
ports, censured  for  their  inordinate  love  of  dress  and  their 
extravagance,  and  the  ruin  of  business-men,  the  failures  of 
merchants,  are,  in  innumerable  cases,  ascribed  to  the  luxury 
of  their  households,  and  the  lavish  expenditure  of  their 
wives.  But  these  same  wives,  in  all  probability,  are  entirely 
ignorant  of  their  husbands'  situation  :  they  are  entirely 
without  standard,  which  nothing  but  their  husbands'  confi- 


*  The  friend  who  once  gave  us  this  answer,  will  pardon  us  for  having 
put  it  into  Hubert's  mouth :  it  was  too  beautiful  to  be  lost. 


236  THE   EXILES. 

dence  could  have  given  them.  Is  it  surprising  then,  that 
such  a  spoilt  child  rebels,  when  it  is  suddenly  expected  to 
make  reductions  in  its  expenses  for  which  it  cannot  compre- 
hend the  necessity  ?  I  have  often  felt,  when  I  heard,  in 
New  York,  of  such  decay  of  circumstances  in  families,  that 
the  fault  lay  with  the  husbands,  not  with  the  wives.  And 
particularly  as  it  has  been  proved  by  a  thousand  examples, 
that  when  her  slumbering  energy  has  once  been  roused  by  an 
emergency,  an  American  woman  is  neither  too  delicate  nor 
too  indolent  for  powerful  activity,  and  is  made  for  some- 
thing better  than  to  be  the  doll  of  her  husband." 

"  How  I  love  to  listen  to  you  !"  said  Clotilde.  "  How 
sharp  and  nice  your  observations  are  !  And  yet  I  am  im- 
patient to  hear  more  about  yourself,  of  what  happened  to 
yon.  Tell  me  now,  above  all,  of  yourself." 

And  perhaps  our  readers,  at  least  those  of  the  fair  sex, 
have  already  experienced  a  similar  desire  ;  perhaps  they- 
have  pronounced  it  "  unnatural "  that  Hubert,  in  one  of 
the  first  conversations  with  his  lost  love,  should  thus  lose 
himself  in  general  reflections.  We  will,  therefore,  remark 
that  we  would  by  no  means  give  the  above  sketches  as  the 
contents  of  a  single  conversation,  but  rather  as  the  results 
of  his  observations,  as  he  communicated  them  to  his  wife 
at  various  periods  in  the  commencement  of  their  reunion. 
Hubert,  endowed  with  an  acute  power  of  observation,  was, 
'however,  inclined  to  dilatory  philosophical  explanations, 
which  often  drew  him  off  from  his  subject,  and  Clotilde, 
though  she  listened  to  him  with  inward  pleasure,  was  fre- 
quently obliged  to  request  him  to  return  to  his  principal 
subject. 


NEW-ENGLAND   SKETCHES.  237 


CHAPTEE  XVI 

NEW-ENGLAND     SKETCHES    CONTINUED. 

PUP^S  m  Aaron  Danforth's  house,"  continued 
Hubert,  "were  his  eldest  daughters,  two  charming 
girls  in  the  first  bloom  of  life.  The  eldest,  Ellen,  the 
'  teacher,'  pale  and  worn  by  too  much  study,  with  large, 
inquiring  eyes ;  the  younger,  of  sixteen,  a  tall,  slender 
figure,  with  the  loveliest,  most  delicate  face,  hung  around  by 
brown  clustering  ringlets,  and  already  her  sister's  powerful 
rival.  They  too,  were  not  deficient  in  domestic  activity  ;  for 
even  the  wealthiest  families  in  the  country  here  are  often  in 
great  want  of  servants,  particularly  in  those  parts  where 
few  emigrants  have  as  yet  come.  For  among  the  American 
farmers'  daughters,  it  is  considered  degrading  to  serve, 
though  not  to  work,  and  they  prefer,  because  this  situation 
seems  to  them  more  '  ladylike,'  to  go  in  crowds  to  Lowell  or 
other  factories,  where,  for  fixed  wages,  they  have  to  perform 
a  certain  quantity  of  often  difficult  labour,  but  are  otherwise 
entirely  independent,  to  hiring  themselves  out  for  the 
domestic  service  of  any  family  more  wealthy  and  genteel 
than  they.  In  the  morning  my  two  beauties  would  sweep 
and  dust  the  rooms,  make  all  the  beds,  which  was  no  trifle, 
and  wash  the  breakfast  dishes.  After  this  they  dressed,  and, 
with  a  book  or  some  fine  sewing  in  their  hands,  they  were 
the  completest  little  ladies,  with  all  the  airs,  all  the  caprices 
of  city  belles,  and  hardly  distinguishable  from  such  by  any- 
thing but  their  rosier  cheeks. 


238  THE   EXILES. 

"The  afternoon  was  devoted  to  the  lessons.  Both  my 
charming  pupils  manifested  great  zeal,  and  an  insatiable 
desire  for  information.  My  short  stay  was  to  be  thoroughly 
employed,  the  greatest  possible  profit  drawn  from  the 
German  stranger's  stock  of  learning.  Rebecca,  the  young- 
est, played  '  Life  let  us  cherish/  and  '  God  save  the  King,' 
on  the  piano,  and  wished  now  to  perfect  herself  in  music. 
Her  father  had  probably  suddenly  formed  the  plan  that  I 
should  educate  her,  in  a  hurry,  for  a  music  teacher.  He 
asked,  at  least,  every  night,  what  Becky  had  learned,  how 
music  was  coming  on,  and  if  she  couldn't  play  another  piece 
now  ?  He  was  rich,  but  his  property  would  have  to  be 
divided  into  thirteen — perhaps,  for  he  was  still  vigorous 
enough,  into  twenty  parts.  He  was  therefore  wise  enough 
to  think  of  providing  for  his  daughters,  and  wished  to  see 
each  one  of  them  capacitated  for  earning  a  living.  The 
daughters  were  guileless,  and  too  young  for  calculation. 
But  after  the  fashion  of  young  American  girls,  they  looked 
upon  every  young  man  who  was  introduced  into  the  house, 
as  their  natural  property.  The  good  little  things,  therefore, 
took  the  principal  duties  of  hospitality  upon  themselves,  and 
overwhelmed  me,  now  with  kindness,  then  with  applications." 

"  Your  situation  was  dangerous,"  said  Clotilde,  who  had 
listened  smilingly.  "  But  how  did  you  manage  with  two  at 
once  ?" 

"  That  might  have  become  a  difficult  point,  if  I  had  not, 
with  a  deep  melancholy  and  your  image  in  my  heart,  re- 
mained entirely  passive.  I  could  well  suffer  the  dear  girls' 
advances,  as  I  saw  plainly  that  their  hearts  had  nothing  to 
do  with  them  ;  they  were  actuated  partly  by  the  interest 
with  which  the  stranger,  the  unfortunate,  inspired  them, 
partly  by  the  wish  of  boasting  of  me  a  little  to  their  com- 
panions. The  mother  had  assigned  to  me  a  pretty  room  in 
the  upper  story,  to  which  I  liked  to  retire  after  the  lessons. 
But  hardly  would  I  have  shut  the  door,  but  one  of  the  little 


NEW -ENGLAND   SKETCHES.  239 

girls  stood  before  it,  and  cried  with  her  ringing  voice  :  '  Mr. 
Hubert,  sister  Becky  wants  to  drive  you  out,  to  show  you 
the  country ;'  or,  '  Sister  Ellen  has  had  the  horses  saddled,  to 
take  a  ride  with  yon  to  Pa's  farm.'  It  was  only  in  the  even- 
ing that  I  had  some  rest.  Then  the  'beaux,'  that  is,  the 
young  gentlemen  from  the  village,  would  come  to  see  the 
young  ladies  ;  the  mother,  who  was  not  even  asked  for  at 
the  door,  retired  from  the  room.  Soon  the  flirting,  laughing, 
and  joking  was  in  full  play,  and  I  could  slip  from  the  room 
unnoticed,  all  the  more,  as  the  parlour  was  always  kept  half- 
dark,  as  is  the  custom  in  American  families  in  the  country, 
particularly  in  summer." 

"  But  only  tell  me,  you  dear  painter  of  manners,"  Clotilde 
interrupted  him,  "  how  you  can  have  observed  so  much  and 
so  clearly  in  so  short  a  time  ?  Did  your  stay  in  Hallowell 
last  so  long  ?" 

"  A  full  week.  I  can  hardly  refrain  from  the  suspicion 
that  Mr.  Danforth  purposely  delayed  the  answer  from  New 
York,  so  as  to  be  able  to  make  use  of  me  longer.  He  may 
have  thought,  too,  that  I  would  not  fare  better  anywhere 
else  than  at  his  house,  and  he  as  well  as  his  wife  seemed  to 
find  sincere  pleasure  in  the  obvious  improvement  of  my  health 
and  strength  during  that  week.  I  had,  in  that  time,  written 
to  the  Bremen  Consul  in  New  York,  as  well  as  to  the  New 
Orleans  partner  of  the  house  which  owned  the  Swan,  but 
left  Hallowell  before  I  could  receive  an  answer.  As 
regards  my  observations,  you-  must  remember  that  I  have 
been  in  this  country  over  a  year  now,  and  have  been  able  to 
complete  the  hasty  notices  of  that  time.  The  impression 
which  I  received,  from  the  first,  of  society  in  the  characteristic 
form  it  has  taken  in  this  youthful  country,  has  remained 
essentially  the  same.  It  has  something  fresh,  energetic,  as 
has  life  here  in  general,  it  is  not  yet  blase.  Its  interests, 
though  not  deep,  are  true  and  lively,  and  everything  that  is 
new,  strange,  or  exciting,  always  bears  off  the  palm  without 


240  THE   EXILES. 

examination ;  for  criticism  is  still  wanting  among  this  young 
people,  and  has  as  yet  neither  refined  nor  deadened  its 
susceptibility. 

"  The  Europeans  mistake  greatly  in  thinking  the  fresh 
mind  of  the  American  unsusceptible  to  Poetry  and  the  Fine 
Arts.  We  have  accustomed  ourselves  to  the  opinion  in- 
herited from  our  forefathers,  that  the  Americans  in  the 
United  States  are  an  active,  enterprising  nation,  but  moved 
exclusively  by  material  interests.  No  view  can  be  more 
partial  or  unjust.  It  is  undoubtedly  true  that  the  material 
interests  predominate,  and,  where  the  wealth  and  pros- 
perity of  a  nation  are  concerned,  ought  to  predominate. 
But  only  a  total  ignorance  of  the  real  state  of  affairs  can 
imagine  them  the  sole  interests  of  a  government,  which  is 
so  essentially  based  not  only  on  civil,  but  also  on  religious 
liberty.  With  few  exceptions,  all  large  benevolent  institu- 
tions, all  higher  schools,  colleges,  libraries,  collections,  etc., 
have  been  founded  by  private  means  ;  in  the  extensive 
Christian  Missions,  in  the  activity  of  the  Bible  Societies 
and  others,  the  government  of  not  one  of  the  twenty-seven 
States  of  North  America*  has  the  least  share.  All  has  been 
brought  about  by  private  funds  and  the  general  sympathy 
of  society  in  these  matters.  Have  we  a  right  to  deem 
spiritual  interests  excluded,  where  such  results  speak  so 
irrefutably  ? 

"  It  is  true,  that  in  the  American  mind  the  idea  of  the 
grand  and  the  beautiful  likes  particularly  to  connect  itself 
with  that  of  some  applicability,  or  in  other  words,  some 
practical  use.  The  Englishman,  his  step-brother,  has  already, 
in  comparison  with  the  German,  a  utilitarian  tendency.  The 
American,  naturally,  who,  as  a  nation,  is  still  struggling, 
and  has  such  an  immense  quantity  of  matter  to  overcome, 


*  At  the  time  when  Hubert  spoke,  there  were  only  twenty-sevt 
States  in  the  Union. 


NEW-ENGLAND   SKETCHES.  241 

leaves  the  other  far  behind  him.  I  have  seen  in  the  faces 
of  cultivated  Americans  an  indignation  almost  bordering  on 
horror,  when,  in  jest,  I  quoted  to  them  Tieck's  strange- 
sounding  sentence:  'When  have  the  Grand  and  the  Beautiful 
ever  debased  themselves  so  deeply  as  to  be  useful?1  Specula- 
tive philosophy  will  never  take  very  deep  root  in  this 
country.  Of  late  years,  indeed,  this  blossom  has  shown 
itself  here  too  in  the  Boston  school  of  Transcendentalists, 
to  prove,  as  it  were,  that  this  soil  is  susceptible  universally, 
and  for  every  product.  But  national  ideas  these  will  never 
be;  indeed,  it  is  amusing  to  observe  in  how  few  individuals 
they  remain  pure,  without  taking,  in  one  or  another  way,  a 
practical,  or  even  utilitarian  direction. 

"  But  ought  we  to  regard  this  decidedly  practical  ten- 
dency of  mind  as  merely  material,  and  excluding  all  spiritual 
interests  ?  Did  Franke  found  the  Orphan  Asylum  in  Halle 
from  material  motives,  because  it  has  been  of  incalculable 
practical  benefit  in  all  parts  of  the  world  ?  Is  the  estab- 
lishment of  an  Academy  of  Science  or  the  Fine  Arts  based 
on  material  interests,  because  these  institutions  give  bread 
to  the  masters  employed  in  them,  and  put  in  action  painters 
and  mechanics  of  all  kinds  ?  Is  there  any  the  less  spirit- 
uality in  tire  creation  of  a  painting,  because  the  artist  paints 
it  to  order  and  for  a  certain  position,  and,  while  engaged 
on  it,  rejoices  in  the  thought  that  the  contemplation  of  it 
will  not  only  delight,  but  elevate  thousands  ?  For  the 
moral  effects  of  a  work  of  Art  ought  certainly  not  to  be 
excluded  from  the  practical  benefit  which  the  world  derives 
from  it. 

"It  is  in  the  nature  of  the  thing  that  a  democratic 
republic  cannot  be  particularly  active  in  the  promotion  of 
Science  and  the  Fine  Arts;  and  that  where  there  is  at  least 
a  general  striving  for  the  most  equal  distribution  of  fortune, 
a  Miecenas  can  be  but  a  rarity;  but  this  will  not  prevent 
true  genius  from  working  its  way  upward. 
11 


242  THE    EXILES. 

"A  far  greater  obstacle  to  the  development  of  pure  Art 
and  more  refined  Literature,  is  partly  the  national  self-love, 
which  impatiently  thrusts  itself  forward  everywhere,  desiroua 
of  placing  itself  in  the  first  ranks,  and  therefore  passes  oft7 
the  mediocre  for  something  great,  so  as  to  induce  others  to 
take  it  for  such;  and  partly,  just  that  total  want  of  criticism, 
of  which  I  have  spoken  before,  and  which,  if  in  the  shape 
of  fault-finding  it  has  fortunately  not  yet  deadened  all  sus- 
ceptibility, has  also  not  yet  suffered  any  true  artistic  sense  to 
.spring  up.  For  the  plastic  arts,  much  decided  talent  has 
already  risen  up  among  the  Americans;  the  brilliant  purity 
of  the  atmosphere,  which  causes  all  forms  of  Nature  to 
stand  out  with  wonderful  clearness  and  distinctness,  may 
have  awakened  this  sense  in  them.  How  many  American 
names  shine  among  the  galaxy  of  sculptors  in  Rome  !  And 
how  many  excellent  landscape  painters  would  gain  well- 
deserved  praise  in  Europe  !  But  in  this,  as  in  everything, 
we  see  the  want  of  criticism.  The  most  indifferent  and  the 
most  beautiful  paintings  are  admired  with  like  enthusiasm. 

"And  is  it  not  the  same  in  their  young  literature  ?  On  the 
field  of  science  and  learned  investigation,  it  is  true,  only  isola- 
ted spots  have  yet  been  cultivated  by  American  hands  with 
any  important  result  But  as  regards  poetry,  only  a  total 
ignorance  of  the  poetical  productions  of  this  people  can  make 
the  Europeans  doubt  of  its  capacity.  Bryant,  Longfellow, 
Whittier,  Hawthorne,  are  names  which  would  be  acknowledged 
as  important  in  the  literature  of  every  country — besides  others 
that  I  might  mention.  But  here  too,  as  in  the  scientific  exer- 
tions, the  same  presumption,  the  same  want  of  criticism  inter- 
feres, and  crying  with  its  loud  voice  in  a  thousand  daily  papers, 
boldly  places  genius  side  by  side  with  the  mere  fortunate 
ephemeral  writer,  the  labourer  with  the  investigator,  the 
rhymer  with  the  poet,  and  blows  the  trumpet  of  fame  with 
cheeks  equally  distended  for  both.  Such  exaggerated  lauding 
alone  fills  the  foreigner  with  a  legitimate  distrust." 


NEW-ENGLAND   SKETCHES.  243 

"  You  must  not  forget,"  observed  Clotilde,  "  that  this  is  a 
characteristic  sign  in  the  literary  development  of  every  people 
which  sees  other  nations,  with  which,  in  other  things,  it  can 
bear  comparison,  hastening  before  them  in  literature.  Only 
remember  how  impatient  were  the  Germans  at  length  to  have 
a  Parnassus  of  their  own.  How  the  writers  of  the  period 
which  Goethe  calls  '  Die  Periode  des  Helens  und  TragensJ* 
overpraised  each  other  !  How  was  '  the  German  Anacreon'f 
overrated  !  And  how  very  much  inclined  was  he,  as  well  as 
his  cotemporaries,  to  bind  wreaths  of  oak  and  laurels  around 
every  head  that  strove  for  them  !" 

"  This  want  of  criticism,"  continued  Hubert,  "  is  most 
conspicuous  in  the  love  for  music,  which,  in  spite  of  a  total 
incapability  of  production — for  single  instances  of  talent  can- 
not be  counted — undeniably  prevails  among  the  nation.  The 
large  seaports  are,  of  course,  out  of  the  question  ;  in  these  the 
foreign  influence  is  predominant,  and  the  presence  of  a  large 
number  of  European  artists  has  naturally  been  not  without 
effect.  Yet  even  there,  more  profound  music,  particularly 
German  music,  has  a  difficult  position,  and  cannot,  in  the 
fashionable  world,  rise  to  a  level  with  the  most  shallow  Italian 
fanfaronades,  and  much  less  among  the  people  with  a  sing-song 
no  less  flat,  but  more  pleasing  to  the  ear,  full  of  reminiscences, 
and  without  character  or  soul.  But  the  music  that  yon  hear 
in  the  interior  !  I  can  hardly  think  without  laughing,  of  the 
jingle-jangle  in  which  I  have  sometimes  seen  a  whole  company 
of  educated  people  take  delight.  The  fact  that  the  Americans 
have  no  popular  poetry  cannot  surprise  us  ;  as  an  English 
race,  the  old  ballads,  whose  origin  dates  from  before  the  seven- 
teenth century,  belong  to  them  as  well  as  to  the  English  ;  as 


*  "  The  period  of  elevating  and  bearing  aloft"  The  period  in  German 
literature  immediately  preceding  Klnpstock,  so  called  from  the  tendency 
of  it-  writers  to  exalt  and  overpraise  each  other. 

f  Gleim. 


244  THE   EXILES. 

an  independent  nation,  indeed  even  as  colonists,  their  Past 
has  its  root  in  a  time  which  had  already  outgrown  popular 
poetry  ;  but  they  have  also  no  popular  melodies.  The  labourer 
does  not  sing  at  his  daily  work,  nor  the  boatman  in  rowing,* 
nor  the  soldier  during  his  march  ;  even  the  nurses  do  not 
always  sing  ;  in  several  cases  I  have  seen  children  lulled  to 
sleep  by  humming  and  rocking,  on  account  of  the  nurse's 
total  inability  to  sing." 

"  This  total  absence  of  musical  taste,"  said  Clotilde, 
."  explains,  too,  the  strange  use  to  which  they  put  our  melodies 
in  their  churches.  With  all  their  religious  feeling,  they  seem 
to  want  the  organ  of  distinction  as  to  the  tones  in  which 
alone  the  soul  should  lift  itself  to  God.  I  have  seen  a  musical 
collection,  in  which  sacred  words  and  hymns  had  been  adapted 
to  some  of  our  favourite  popular  melodies  and  opera-music, 
such  as  '  With  men  who  feel  the  might  of  love/f  '  Softly, 
gentle  strain,  flow  softly,'J  Beethoven's  '  Nel  cor  non  pin 
mi  sento,'  Rousseau's  Dream,  Spohr's  '  Oh  rose,  how  sweet  art 
thou  and  mild  !'  and  others  of  the  kind.  In  this  way  they 
may  be  sung  on  the  Sabbath  by  the  strictest  Christian.  In 
the  churches  you  can  hear  whole  congregations  edifying  them- 
selves by  similar  airs,  and  it  is  literally  true  that  I  once,  in 
coming  out  of  a  church,  heard  the  organist  dismiss  the  congre- 
gation with  the  well-known  '  Come  arouse  thee,  arouse  thee, 
my  merry  Swiss  boy  !' " 

"  Capital !"  cried  Hubert,  laughing.  "  But  now  I  would 
remind  you,  as  you  did  me  before,  that  at  the  first  introduction 
of  Christianity,  as  well  as  later,  at  the  time  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, much  of  our  most  glorious  church-music  originated  in  a 
similar  manner. 


*  It  must  be  remembered  that  the  boatmen  in  Canada,  the  "  voyageurs," 
•who  have  beautiful  songs,  are  of  French  origin, 
f  From  Mozart's  Magic  Flute. 
j  From  Weber's  Freischutz. 


NEW-ENGLAND   SKETCHES.  245 

"  But  our  remarks  are-  not  the  less  true  for  that.  In 
America  only  completely  Europeanized  individuals  are  musical; 
consequently  this  deficiency  will  not  strike  the  cultivated 
traveller,  who  becomes  acquainted  only  with  the  higher  classes 
of  society.  To  this  society  a  certain  grace  is  always  given  by 
the  women.  There  is  no  country  in  the  world  where  you  find 
more  beauty  among  the  female  youth,  who,  mostly,  it  is  true, 
fade  too  soon,  with  the  age  of  tender  bloom,  but  then — at 
least  in  the  interior — devote  themselves  exclusively  to  the 
domestic  circle,  the  nursery,  the  kitchen,  the  work-table,  and, 
as  the  vital  element  of  the  spirit — the  church. 

"American  women,  in  general,  are  not  devoid  of  tact  and 
ability,  and  acquire  without  trouble  a  certain  light  easy  tone. 
But  where  the  men  are  concerned,  a  degree  of  angular  stiffness 
cannot  be  avoided,  nor  an  utter  absence  of  laisser-aller  over- 
looked. An  American  frequents,  not  without  zeal  and  regard 
to  duty,  the  assemblies  of  certain  societies  formed  for  par- 
ticular objects  ;  or  he  goes  into  company  because  he  is  invited  ; 
or  because  he  does  not  wish  to  appear  impolite  ;  or,  if  he  is 
young,  and  perhaps  thinking  of  getting  married,  to  see  pretty 
girls.  But  he  rarely  visits  his  friends,  like  the  German,  only 
for  the  pleasure  of  feeling  cheerful  and  comfortable  with  friends. 
He  has  too  much  to  do  for  that.  The  leisure  time  which  his 
business  leaves  him  naturally  belongs  to  his  family.  And  as 
head  of  the  family,  the  American  is  exceedingly  estimable. 
Clubs,  'Ressources?  Casinos,  which  are  so  injurious  to  a  more 
refined  domestic  intercourse,  are  quite  unknown  in  the  interior 
of  the  country,  and  wherever  such  societies  exist  in  the  sea- 
ports, they  arc  only  a  resource  for  young  unmarried  men  who 
have  to  be  without  a  home-circle,  or  for  the  comparatively 
small  number  of  old  bachelors.  For  his  domestic  virtues  we 
must  respect  the  American,  we  must  love  him. 

"  The  want  of  ease  of  the  American  in  society,  in  spite  of 
his  ability  in  anything  business-like,  is  naturally  of  no  advan- 
tage to  the  latter.  The  introduction  of  a  certain  etiquette — 


24G  THE   EXILES. 

a  plant  of  English  seed  and  growth — is,  therefore,  of  great 
assistance  to  him.  Society  in  this  young  country  is  subjected 
to  much  stricter  rules  than  with  us,  where  even  the  higher 
circles  like  to  give  themselves  an  air  of  comfort  and  ease.  The 
American,  if  he  wishes  to  be  looked  upon  as  belonging  to 
good  society,  submits  to  "a  certain  code,  which  tells  him 
minutely  when  he  must  appear  in  a  dress-coat  and  white  vest, 
when  he  has  to  offer  his  arm  to  a  lady,  how  soon  he  must 
return  a  call,  and  many  other  outward  observances  of  the 
kind.  But  this  gives  social  life,  indeed,  a  certain  propriety, 
but  certainly  neither  interest  nor  comfort.  Of  the  tediousness, 
insipidity,  and  dryness  of  every-day  conversation  in  this  country, 
neither  the  lively  Frenchman,  nor  the  communicative  German, 
who  is  too  ranch  inclined  to  lay  his  inward  individuality  open 
to  view,  can  form  a  correct  idea.  Only  the  Englishman  might 
perhaps  do  so. 

"  If  in  this  matter  the  men  in  particular  are  blamed,  there 
is,  on  the  other  hand,  a  characteristic  principal  feature  of 
society  in  the  United  States,  which  appears  alike  in  both 
sexes.  And  in  this  you  will  agree  with  me  perfectly.  I  mean 
the  decided  want  of  reverence  which  manifests  itself  under 
all  circumstances  ;  no  less  in  the  absence  of  respect  for  the 
legal  authorities,  than  for  age. 

"  The  rapid  advances  of  this  century  in  cultivation,  en- 
lightenment and  book  learning,  have,  in  many  things,  pushed 
youth  far  ahead  of  age.  These  advantages  are  the  aim  and 
pride  of  the  loving  parents,  which  they  often  purchase  at  the 
heaviest  sacrifices.  '  To  give  an  education '  to  her  children, 
and  thereby  enable  them  to  put  themselves  on  au  equality 
with  the  highest,  is  particularly  the  ambition  of  every  New- 
England  mother.  The  advantage  of  a  regular  school-educa- 
tion is  felt  so  distinctly  in  every  class  of  society,  that  cases 
frequently  occur,  where  grown-up  girls,  whose  education  has 
been  neglected  in  their  early  youth,  on  account  of  the 
poverty  of  their  parents,  make  up  their  minds  to  do  domestic 


NEW -ENGLAND  SKETCHES.       247 

service  for  a  few  years  ;  or,  oftener  still,  that  they  work  in  a 
factory  for  a  while,  so  as  to  earn  a  small  sum  of  money  with 
which  to  cover  the  expenses  of  a  one  or  two  years'  visit  to  a 
'  Young  Ladies'  Academy,'  or  '  Young  Ladies'  Seminary,' 
and  thus  partake  of  a  higher  course  of  instruction. 

"  But  the  advantages  thus  acquired,  are  often  only  seem- 
ing ones.  For  the  good  sense  of  the  parents  is  generally  no 
less  well  developed,  and  their  characters  no  less  indepen- 
dently formed,  even  though  they  are  deficient  in  school- 
learning,  and  the  manners  of  the  present  generation  are  more 
easy  and  polished.  But  I  doubt  if  youth  always  recognises 
this  distinctly.  I  have  an  amusing  instance  of  such  a  case, 
which  you  can  very  well  take  as  a  characteristic  one. 

"  At  the  house  of  a  German  in  New  York,  who  is  married 
to  an  American  lady,  I  had  several  times  met  the  sister  of 
his  wife,  a  charming  girl.  As  custom  requires,  I  was  escort- 
ing her  home  one  evening,  when  she  invited  me  to  call  on 
her.  I  went,  a  few  days  after,  found  her  alone,  and  sat  and 
chatted  with  her  awhile,  without  the  mother's  making  her 
appearance.  In  this,  no  one  would  see  anything  remarkable, 
and  the  strictest  decency  is  observed  as  punctually  as  if  ten 
mothers  were  present  as  guard  of  honour.  Soon  after  this, 
I  received  an  invitation  to  an  evening  party,  in  a  delicate 
note  written  by  the  own  hand  of  the  young  lady,  and  only  in 
her  name.  This  time  the  mother  was  present,  probably  to 
attend  to  the  refreshments.  I  of  course  addressed  her  first. 
But  I  got  none  but  laconic  answers  ;  little  beyond  '  Yes,  sir,' 
and  '  No,  sir.'  But  her  dry  manner  was  combined  with  a 
perfectly  dignified  deportment.  In  a  few  moments  the 
daughter  joined  us.  '  You  must  excuse  my  mother,  sir,'  she 
said,  with  perfect  simplicity  ;  '  she  is  very  little  accustomed 
to  society,  and  feels  particularly  embarrassed  with  a  for- 
eigner.' " 

"That  is  a  strong  example,"  remarked  Clotilde,  with 
decided  disapprobation. 


248  THE   EXILES. 

"  I  hardly  think  you  will  often  find  this  feature  quite  so 
strongly  marked.  But  yet  it  is  true  :  America  is  the  land 
of  youth,  because  it  is  that  of  the  Future,  the  land  of  hope. 
Age  is  deposed  here.  The  one  trait  that,  for  instance,  in  the 
state  of  Xevv  York,  a  judge  must  resign  his  office  when  he 
is  sixty  years  old,  shows  this  plainly  enough.  There  has 
been  a  case  where  a  man  who,  as  a  lawyer,  belonged  to  the 
leading  stars  of  the  whole  country  ;  and,  through  half  his 
life,  had  filled  the  honourable  position  of  Chancellor  of  the 
state  of  New  York,  with  the  highest  credit,  reached  his 
sixtieth  year.  But  though  he  was  universally  acknowledged 
to  be  in  the  full  possession  of  his  physical  and  mental  powers, 
the  law  was  peremptory  :  he  had  to  give  up  his  post  and 
make  room  for  a  younger  man.* 

"But  now  let  me  return  to  my  own  story. 

"  "When  the  letter  from  New  York  finally  arrived  in  Hal- 
lowell,  there  was  great  excitement  in  the  house,  and  I  too 
could  not  part  without  sadness  from  that  excellent  family, 
who  had  shown  the  poor  shipwrecked  sufferer  such  hospitality, 
though  it  had  been  of  a  truly  national  character.  I  felt 
particularly  grateful  to  good  Mrs.  Danforth,  to  whose  kind, 
unassuming  care  and  attention,  I  owed  the  restoration  of  my 
health.  As  a  matter  of  course,  I  wished  to  pay  double  for 
my  board  and  articles  of  dress,  but  Mr.  Danforth  would  only 
take  compensation  for  the  clothes  ;  my  board,  he  declared, 
had  been  paid  threefold  by  the  instruction  I  had  given.  He 
urged  the  twelve  dollars  upon  me  again,  upon  which  I  went 
to  the  jeweller's,  and  bought  with  them  a  pretty  bracelet  for 
Ellen,  and  a  breastpin  for  the  little  one,  which  were  joyfully 
received." 

"  Go  on,"  said  Clotilde,  laughing,  "  so  far  I  am  not  jealous 
yet  ;  but  take  care  you  keep  yourself  as  unstained  in  coming 
events." 

*  This  law  has  since  been  annulled. 


NEW-ENGLAND   SKETCHES.  249 

"  I  now  hastened  on  the  wings  of  the  wind  to  New  York. 
Here  I  heard  from  the  Bremen  consul,  that  he  had  only  quite 
recently  received  intelligence  of  the  fate  of  the  Swan.  A 
single  sailor  from  the  long-boat,  a  powerful  swimmer,  had 
been  saved,  after  long  drifting  about  on  the  waves,  by 
being  taken  up  by  fishermen  from  an  island  on  the  coast  of 
Georgia.  After  he  had  sufficiently  recovered,  he  made  a  re- 
port of  the  disaster  to  a  Bremen  house  in  Savannah,  which 
had  immediately  communicated  the  intelligence  to  the  consul 
in  New  York,  as  well  as  the  New  Orleans  proprietor  of  the 
lost  ship.  The  rescued  sailor  had  not  doubted  that  he  was 
the  only  survivor.  When  the  long-boat  sank,  and  he  fell  into 
the  water,  it  took  him  some  time  to  extricate  himself  from  the 
unfortunates  who,  in  the  reliance  on  his  strength  and  skill, 
tried  to  cling  to  him.  When  he  had  at  last  freed  himself, 
he  intended  to  swim  to  the  other  boat,  which  had  left  the 
ship  directly  after  theirs,  but  there  was  no  trace  of  it  to  be 
seen.  He  was  certain  that  these  poor  sufferers  too,  had 
found  their  grave  in  the  sea. 

"  The  consul  did  not  doubt  it.  None  of  your  companions, 
my  Clotilde,  has  ever  been  heard  of,  as  I  have  since  learned 
from  New  Orleans  ;  they  were  mostly  emigrants,  who  have 
probably  remained  somewhere  in  the  South,  and  created  a 
new  destiny  for  themselves.  The  mate,  and  the  few  sailors 
who  were  in  your  boat,  have  doubtless  found  new  situations 
in  St.  Augustine  or  some  other  Southern  port,  and  think  it 
time  enough  to  report  their  whereabouts  when  they  have  re- 
turned from  a  new  voyage. 

"  This  blow  was  crushing.  My  hope  that  you  were  saved, 
had  never  failed.  I  was  long  as  stunned,  and  not  yet  hope- 
less. I  not  only  sent,  through  the  principal  papers  in  the 
tlnion,  a  summons  to  you  in  the  words  :  '  F.  H.  lives.  Where 
is  C.  O  ?'  with  the  address  of  a  house  in  New  York  ;  but  for 
days  I  sat  over  mountains  of  papers  of  the  spring  months,  look- 
ing through  them  with  a  patience  that  was  never  natural  to 
11* 


250  THE   EXILES. 

me,  searching  for  one  word,  one  intelligence,  which  would  aid 
me  in  finding  you.  That  you  would  think  me  dead,  I  knew, 
for  I  had  sunk  before  your  eyes.  Only  a  miracle  had  given 
me  supernatural  strength.  But  you  might  be  saved.  There 
was  a  possibility  that  the  bewildered  sailor  had  been  mis- 
taken. Where  we  were  wrecked  I  cannot  tell.  The  sailor 
gave  the  latitude  of  Charleston,  that  is,  about  thirty-three  de- 
grees, probably  to  increase  the  wonder  of  his  having  saved 
himself  by  swimming  to  the  coast  of  Georgia.  I  am  con- 
vinced that  our  misfortune  met  us  much  farther  south.  But 
I  did  not  think  of  your  drifting  to  Florida.  Whatever  of 
Charleston  and  Savannah  papers  rny  friends  could  find,  I  looked 
through  carefully.  These  friends,  too,  wrote  to  those  places, 
though,  as  I  could  see,  with  small  hope  for  the  result,  and  only 
to  pacify  me.  Unfortunately,  the  name  of  the  house  on  which 
jrour  bill  of  exchange  was  made  out,  had  entirely  slipped  my 
Diind.  You  say  it  had  failed  ;  but,  nevertheless,  this  would 
perhaps  have  opened  to  me  a  way  of  hearing  of  the  inquiry 
which  Alonzo  made  at  your  request.  From  time  to  time,  I 
received  my  summons.  The  fact  that  it  remained  unanswered, 
gave  me  finally  the  harrowing  certainty  of  your  death." 

"Your  advertisements,  poor  Hubert,"  said  Clotilde,  "fell 
in  a  time  when  I  myself  lived  in  deep  seclusion.  Alonzo 
was  occupied  with  the  threatening  attacks  of  the  Seminoles, 
and  may  have  read  the  New  York  papers  only  irregularly 
and  hastily.  And  his  advertisement  to  you  was  probably 
inserted  in  the  St.  Augustine  and  other  Southern  papers 
immediately  after  our  separation  ;  for,  according  to  all 
human  calculations,  if  you  were  saved,  you  must  be  near. 
That  Providence  had  taken  you  to  Maine,  this  was  more 
than  human  wisdom  could  imagine  !  But  these  provincial 
papers  have  probably  never  reached  New  York  !" 

"  I  had  been  already,  for  two  weeks,  in  possession  of  my 
papers,  which  had  been  sent  after  me  from  Germany  ;  but 
these  investigations  had  occupied  me  so  exclusively,  that  I 


NEW-ENGLAND   SKETCHES.  251 

had  not  yet  allowed  myself  time  to  look  through  them.  At 
length,  one  melancholy  afternoon,  I  opened  the  little  box  ; 
I  glanced  hastily,  and  not  without  emotion,  over  some  of 
my  father's  letters,  some  strategetical  essays  from  his  hand, 
and  the  like.  Suddenly  a  thin  package,  in  form  of  a  letter, 
lay  before  me,  on  it  the  address  :  'To  my  son,  in  case  he 
should  go  to  America  ;  to  be  opened  only  there.' 

"  I  was  startled.  What  could  this  mean  ?  Not  without 
an  inward  shudder  I  broke  the  seal.  I  had  a  dim  presenti- 
ment that  a  new  grief  awaited  me.  Nevertheless,  I  did  not 
hesitate.  I  was  so  indescribably  sad  at  heart,  that  I  almost 
longed  to  empty  the  cup.  Only  for  this  grief  I  was  not 
prepared." 

"  What  ails  you,  dearest  Hubert,  you  have  grown  quite 
pale  ?  What  did  the  letter  contain,  my  beloved  friend  ?" 

"  You  shall  soon  learn  it,  dear  Clotilde,"  replied  Hubert. 
"  Let  me  continue  now,  till  the  right  period  comes  for  com- 
municating to  you  the  letter  itself.  Here  it  is,"  he  con- 
tinued, taking  it  from  his  pocket-book,  which  contained 
several  letters,  and  laying  it  on  the  table  before  him. 

"  I  was  pale  and  miserable,  and  the  increasing  heat  of 
the  summer  contributed  to  wear  me  out  entirely.  Among 
the  Germans  in  New  York  who  had  associated  with  me, 
there  was  a  physician  who  took  real  interest  in  me.  He 
urged  me  to  visit  one  of  the  neighbouring  sea-bathing 
places,  which  he  hoped  would  strengthen  me.  But  the 
idea  of  the  fashionable  crowd  who  were  streaming  there 
at  that  season,  disgusted  me.  Just  then  a  Pole,  whom  I 
had  often  met,  a  man  of  decided  worth,  proposed  to  me  to 
go  with  him  to  a  farmer's  in  Rockaway,  on  the  southern 
coast  of  Long  Island,  where  he  had  already  spent  the  pre- 
ceding summer  quite  pleasantly  and  cheaply.  I  agreed  to 
his  proposal.  Here,  dear  Clotilde,  I  became  acquainted 
with  Virginia." 

Clotilde   had   listened  to    Hubert's   relation   with   deep 


252  THE   EXILKS. 

attention.  But  now  a  faint  colour  overspread  her  face,  and 
a  certain  earnest  look  seemed  to  indicate  that  her  heart  was 
more  than  usually  interested  in  this  subject. 

"  It  gave  me  a  kind  of  melancholy  pleasure  to  ramble  for 
whole  days  by  the  shore,  on  the  firm  white  beach,  which 
stretches  along  like  a  sparkling  bridge  between  the  open 
ocean  and  the  ankle-deep,  loose  sand-sea  of  the  island — a 
sort  of  charming  self-torment  to  lie  upon  the  shore  until  the 
approaching  waves  drove  me  farther  and  farther  inland,  and 
to  gaze  out  upon  the  confusion  of  the  elements,  to  live  the 
whole  horror  over  and  over  again  in  spirit,  and — to  dissolve 
in  grief !  When  the  sea  was  raging  in  fury,  when  the 
merciless  storm  lashed  the  air,  then  I  was  content,  and  I 
could  say  to  the  oceap  '"  despise  thy  fury.  Not  thy 
passion,  thy  raging  has  torn  her  from  me.  With  smooth 
and  flattering  face  thou  didst  receive  her,  and  swallow  up 
the  precious  pearl.  The  burden  was  too  heavy  for  thee  to 
bear;  carelessly  thou  didst  throw  it  off.' 

"  My  friend,  too,  had  suffered  deeply.  He  was  banished, 
like  me,  and  had  lost  everything.  We  often  sat  together  on 
one  of  the  beams  which  here  and  there  the  waves  had  thrown 
on  shore,  fragments  of  a  wreck,  to  which,  pei'haps,  the 
hand  of  some  poor  creature  had  long  clung  in  despair,  until 
his  strength  broke.  We  sat  and  gazed  out  upon  the  bound- 
less waters,  sat  for  hours,  for  days,  in  silence.  From  time 
to  time  a  party  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  from  the  Pavilion, 
the  chief  seat  of  fashion  in  Rockaway,  would  pass  by; 
laughing  and  joking,  they  walked  up  and  down  the  beach. 
Osicki,*  who,  in  his  days  of  splendour,  had  moved  much  in 
the  great  world,  first  noticed  that  the  fair  ones  were 
coquetting  with  us.  They  would  begin,  directly  behind 
us,  to  talk  French,  so  that  we  could  understand  what  they 
said  ;  would  express  delight  at  the  ocean,  the  sunset,  and 

*  Pronounced  Ositsky. 


NEW -ENGLAND    SKETCHES.  253 

other  similar  absurdities.  To  me  it  was  disagreeable.  The 
count  was  amused  by  the  affair  ;  he  really  commenced  an  ac- 
quaintance, but  avoided  appearing  at  the  Pavilion,  because 
his  dress  was  not  suited  to  the  elegance  which  prevailed 
there.  For  he  was  in  the  narrowest  circumstances. 

"  One  day  I  was  sitting  on  the  shore  alone,  when  a  party 
of  noisy,  fashionable  young  ladies  took  it  into  their  heads  to 
look  for  shells  and  little  flat,  gay-coloured  stones,  such  as  the 
waves  leuve  behind  them,  in  my  immediate  vicinity.  I 
arose,  and  was  about  to  leave,  when  one  of  them,  a  tall, 
proud  figure,  who  had  struck  me  before,  when  I  had  met 
her,  by  her  great  beauty,  and  her  splendid,  challenging  eyes, 
approached  me  and  addressed  me  with  the  smile  of  one 
accustomed  to  conquest.  What  we  talked  about,  I  have 
entirely  forgotten ;  I  hardly  think  I  appeared  to  much 
advantage.  I  am  naturally  rather  timid  with  women,  and 
the  bold,  complacent  manner  of  this  charming  and  evidently 
high-bred  girl  increased  my  confusion.  She  was  not  intru- 
sive. She  behaved  like  a  queen,  who  feels  certain  that  the 
favours  to  which  she  condescends  will  delight  their  object.  I 
was  as  reserved  as  possible,  and  this,  doubtless,  made  me 
the  more  interesting  to  the  proud,  spoilt  heart  of  the  beauti- 
ful girl. 

"  Matters  went  on  in  this  way  for  a  while.  Our  farmer 
had  other  boarders  besides  us.  One  young  man  from  Xew 
York  would  dress  himself  in  his  best  in  the  evening,  and 
visit  his  more  wealthy  acquaintances  at  the  Pavilion. 
'  Why  don't  you  come  with  me  to  the  Pavilion  some- 
times?' the  shallow  fop,  with  whom  I  had  never  before 
spoken  a  word,  asked  me  one  day.  '  The  handsome  Miss 
Castleton  has  inquired  for  you  very  particularly  several 
times.' 

"  Castleton  !  The  name  struck  me  like  a  clap  of  thunder. 
This  letter  will  tell  you  why.  '  Who  is  she  ?'  I  asked,  with 
forced  calmness.  '  I  do  not  know  her.' 


254  THE   EXILES. 

"  '  What !'  cried  the  other,  '  You  say  you  don't  know  the 
belle  of  Rockaway  ?  The  charming  Miss  Castleton  from 
South  Carolina,  whom  you  have  had  long  talks  with  on  the 
beach  ?  There  is  a  younger  Miss  Castleton,  too,  but  she 
don't  dance,  and  is  not  half  as  beautiful.  Why  don't  you 
come  there  ?  I'm  ready  to  introduce  you  to  the  ladies.' 

"  I  collected  myself.  '  I  don't  go  into  company,'  I  said; 
'  I'm  not  well  enough  to  do  so.' 

"  The  next  morning  the  fool  spoke  to  me  again  across  the 
breakfast-table  :  '  Oh,  Mr.  Berghedorf !'  —  this  letter  will 
tell  you,  too,  why  I  took  another  name  — '  you  have  every 
reason  to  regret  not  having  gone  with  me  last  night.  Miss 
Castleton  sent  one  of  her  admirers  to  ask  me  if  I  wished  to 
be  introduced  to  her.  I  had  the  honour  of  dancing  with 
her.  She  is  a  charming  creature.  She  asked  about  you. 
The  ladies  took  you  for  a  Polish  count.  They  call  you  two 
nothing  but  "  the  two  Polish  counts  "  at  the  Pavilion.  But 
I  told  them  you  were  a  German  baron.  When  the  ladies 
heard  that  I  had  the  honour  of  being  your  friend,  they 
commissioned  me  to  introduce  you  both  at  the  Pavilion.' 

"  Osicki  laughed  ;  I  would  willingly  have  disclaimed  the 
'  friendship.'  The  same  day  I  received  a  note  from  Virginia, 
which  moved  me  strangely.  Now  read  this  letter." 

Hubert  arose  and  left  Clotilde  alone. 


THE   LETTER.  255 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE      LETTER. 


,  with  the  most  anxious  interest,  unfolded  the 
^  paper,  and  read  : 

"  MY  BELOVED  SON, 

"  In  the  last  sad  interview  which  I  had  with  you,  you 
expressed  to  me  your  firm  resolution  to  go,  at  the  end  of 
your  term  of  imprisonment,  or  in  case  you  should  be  released 
before  that  time  by  a  so-called  act  of  mercy,  to  America.  I 
could  only  approve  of  this  decision,  and  am  still  of  the  same 
mind.  For  Germany  is  the  land  of  servitude  ;  years  will 
pass  before  it  can  be  otherwise.  Your  unripe  conspiracies, 
your  youthful  vehemence,  your  disturbances,  here  to-day, 
to-morrow  there,  only  increase  the  evil.  Not  until  the 
whole,  united  Germany  rises  up,  will  the  necessary  revolu- 
tion be  brought  about.  But  half  a  century  may  pass  before 
this  fruit  is  ripe,  and  falls  of  itself,  without  any  premature, 
impatient  shaking  of  the  tree.  Till  that  time  free  America 
should  be  the  asylum  of  those  longing  for  freedom. 

"  This  plan,  however,  enjoins  upon  me  the  painful  duty 
of  making  a  disclosure,  which  heretofore  I  thought  myself 
justified  in  withholding  from  you.  The  fear  that  an  aveng- 
ing Nemesis  might  cause  the  evil  seed  to  spring  up  and  bear 
still  more  evil  fruit,  now  unseals  my  lips. 

"  Yes,  I  already  feel  the  beginning  of  its  restless  working. 
It  is  a  severe  punishment,  which  forces  the  father  to  lay  bare 
his  own  weakness  to  his  son,  who  looked  up  reverently  to 


25(3  THE    EXILES. 

•% 

him  he  deemed  all  pure.  Do  not,  therefore,  blame  me,  if  I 
add  to  your  name  on  the  envelope  the  words,  '  to  be  opened 
only  in  America  ;'  that  I  would  spare  myself  here  below  au 
evil  that  is  not  necessary,  the  more  willingly  that  I  have  for 
years  felt  more  and  more  plainly  that  above  I  must  render 
up  a  strict  account  of  my  actions,  however  I  may  have  fared 
on  earth. 

"  You  know,  my  son,  that  when  the  Corsican  tyrant's 
command  dragged  the  German  youth  to  Russia,  I  secretly 
left  the  home  which  belonged  to  his  miserable  brother's 
patchwork  kingdom,  and  fled  to  England.  Your  mother 
aided  my  flight.  The  mere  thought  that  I  should  fight  with 
the  French,  against  my  own  conviction,  roused  her  pure  soul 
to  indignation.  I  had  not  yet  been  married  to  her  three 
full  years — I  loved,  esteemed,  admired  her — and  yet  I  began 
to  find  the  restraint  of  marriage,  the  restrictions  of  domestic 
life,  an  almost  unsupportable  burden.  Among  warlike  ad- 
ventures, among  the  bloody  collisions  in  Sicily,  in  the  storms 
of  the  Guerilla  war,  I  had  ripened  from  a  youth  into  a  man. 
At  Corunna  I  had  been  wounded  in  the  right  arm,  and  was,  for 
a  time  at  least,  disabled  for  service.  I  concluded  to  improve 
the  opportunity  to  see  my  aged  parents  in  Germany  once 
more,  who  were  longing  in  vain  for  their  son,  the  late  fruit 
of  a  long  union,  and,  as  such,  doubly  beloved  and  indulged. 
The  peace  with  Austria  had  just  been  declared,  and  con- 
firmed by  the  shameless  marriage  of  Marie  Louise.  Ger- 
many was  outwardly  quiet.  Under  a  false  name,  with  the 
borrowed  passport  of  a  merchant,  I  reached  my  parents  in 
safety,  who  had  already  mourned  for  me  as  dead. 

"  The  joy  of  the  good  old  people  touched  me.  A  neigh- 
bouring estate  was  the  residence  of  your  mother's  father  ;  I 
became  acquainted  with  her  immediately  after  my  return, 
for  there  was  more  than  one  fattened  calf  killed  for  the 
prodigal  son.  I  was  the  centre  of  attraction  at  their  rural 
feasts,  which,  without  the  occupation  for  my  heart  which 


THE    LETTER.  257 

the  fair,  serious  beauty  of  your  mother  gave  me,  would  soon 
have  appeared  insupportably  shallow  to  me.  I  had  not 
lived  nearly  twenty-four  years  without  having  tasted  of  the 
pleasures  of  love  ;  among  fiery  Sicilians,  among  passionate 
Spaniards,  the  thoughtless  youth  had  passed  through  many 
an  adventure,  many  a  school.  The  pure,  quiet,  perfectly 
German  beauty  of  your  mother  was  new  to  me.  I  saw  her 
graceful,  untiring  efficiency,  her  domestic  activity.  Her 
mother  was  dead — she  was  at  the  head  of  a  large  house- 
hold ;  there  was  a  wisdom,  a  circumspection  in  everything 
that  she  did,  which  appeared  to  me  really  sublime  in  the  girl 
of  twenty.  She  should  have  been  a  princess.  And  with  all 
this,  so  girlish,  so  modest.  When  she  spoke,  the  roses  in 
her  cheeks  assumed  a  deeper  hue.  From  her  blue  eyes 
there  shone  such  a  holy,  peaceful,  maidenly  innocence. 
Before  this  I  had  admired  only  the  black  eyes  ;  but  these 
blue  ones  seemed  to  promise  to  the  man  of  their  choice  a 
heaven  of  love. 

"  I  soon  saw  that  here  a  common  love-intrigue  could  not  be 
entered  upon.  And,  indeed,  I  made  no  attempt  at  one  ;  she 
was  too  high,  too  good  for  that.  I  went  to  work  entirely 
without  design,  without  plan,  when,  one  day,  carried  away  by 
her  loveliness,  I  broke  out  into  a  glowing  declaration  of  love. 
She  blushed.  '  Speak  with  my  father,'  she  said,  with  eyes 
cast  down.  And  the  power  of  her  moral  dignity  was  such, 
that  I  would  not  have  had  the  courage  to  see  her  again,  with- 
out having  before  spoken  to  her  father.  Before  I  knew  of  it, 
I  was  betrothed.  And  I  did  not  repent  of  it.  I  became  a 
happy  husband,  doubly  happy  in  the  exceeding  joy  of  my 
parents. 

"  I  had  arrived  at  the  haven.  Your  mother  was  in  every 
respect  the  woman  to  make  home  dear,  and  domestic  life 
charming.  Quiet,  careful,  perfectly  healthy,  even-tempered, 
and  graceful,  she  created  for  me  the  most  beautiful,  most 
agreeable  still-life.  Your  birth  enhanced  its  attractions  con- 


258  THE   EXILES. 

siderably  ;  it  gave  our  days  a  breath  of  poetry — idyllic  poetry, 
indeed,  aud  unlike  the  glowing  dithyrambics  of  some  of  my 
former  love-adventures,  unlike  the  romances  of  my  warrior-life 
— but  yet  poetry,  which  for  awhile  threw  a  veil  over  the 
sameness  of  my  life  otherwise. 

"  By  degrees,  only,  a  kind  of  uneasiness  came  over  me,  a 
species  of  mental  ennui,  which  was  certainly  not  unnatural  in 
the  contrast  of  my  present  situation  to  the  constant  variety 
and  change  in.  which  I  had  passed  the  preceding  five  or  six 
years  of  my  life.  The  quiet  monotony  in  which  my  days  crept 
on,  was  not  suited  to  my  young  years.  There  was  particularly 
something  in  your  mother's  great  regularity,  her  uncommon 
love  of  order,  that  weighed  upon  me.  She  was  not  pedantic  ; 
but  she  was  of  the  opinion  that  nothing  but  the  greatest  regu- 
larity could  sustain  domestic  order,  and  endeavoured  to  train 
her  servants  to  the  strictest  punctuality.  You  were  nursed 
only  at  certain  hours  ;  all  business,  every  enjoyment,  was 
bound  to  certain  days,  certain  hours.  The  most  glorious 
moonlight  tempted  her  in  vain  to  a  walk  on  Saturday  even- 
ing, when  she  was  summing  up  the  weekly  accounts  ;  where 
social  pleasures  were  concerned,  she  was  a  particular  friend  of 
such  reunions  which  were  held  regularly  on  certain  days,  in 
order,  at  the  different  houses  of  those  belonging  to  them  ;  her 
rich  beautiful  hair  she  wore  unalterably  after  one  fashion,  and 
made  little  change  altogether  in  the  colours  and  style  of  her 
dress.  She  loved  to  listen  to  my  stories  in  the  evening,  after 
supper,  when  all  household  duties  were  ended.  Then,  how 
much  soul  shone  out  of  her  glorious  eyes,  that  were  fixed  on 
me,  how  animated  did  her  lovely  features  grow,  while,  with 
heart  and  thought,  she  followed  each  of  my  words  !  But  if 
I  sat  down  by  her  after  breakfast,  and  wished  to  read  to  her, 
to  tell  her  something,  before  she  had  attended  to  her  domestic 
affairs,  or  to  the  child,  I  could  easily  recognise  in  her  a  sort  of 
anxious  restlessness,  although  she  was  too  affectionate,  and 
perhaps  too  shrewd,  to  repulse  me.  There  was  no  thought  of 


THE   LETTER.  259 

forgetting-,  of  giving  herself  up  to  me,  until  the  right  hour  had 
come. 

"There  was  something  benumbing,  deadening  for  me  in 
this  life.  I  could  claim  her  morning  hours  for  myself  from 
pure  vexation.  I  could  let  her  wait  for  me  at  meals  for  half 
hours,  only  because  it  provoked  me  that  for  two  years  the 
servant  had  stood  before  me  every  day  punctually  at  two  min- 
utes before  two  o'clock,  with  the  information  that  dinner  was 
on  the  table.  I  proposed  little  journeys,  so  as  to  give  some 
variety  to  the  eternal  sameness  of  our  life.  She  consented  re- 
luctantly ;  but  to  oblige  me,  she  travelled  with  me  once  or 
twice,  until  she  again  found  herself  in  a  situation  which  made  it 
inconvenient  for  her.  And  alone,  the  little  excursions,  in 
which  I  had  always  to  drag  behind  me  the  chain  which,  though 
I  had  learned  to  love,  I  still  felt,  gave  me  small  satisfaction. 

"  I  do  not  know  how  the  matter  would  have  ended,  had 
not  circumstances  that  were  entirely  beyond  all  calculation, 
unexpectedly  come  to  my  assistance.  The  Westphalian  army 
was  placed  on  a  war-footing,  to  aid  Bonaparte  in  conquering 
Russia.  It  had  been  discovered  that  I  had  held  a  commission 
in  the  English  army.  It  was  rumoured  that  I  was  still  in 
connection  with  England.  A  proposal  was  made  me  to  enter 
the  Westphalian  service,  so  as  to  avert  suspicion.  I  was  to 
be  appointed  major.  I  was  urged  ;  I  saw  that  the  suspicion 
expressed  served  only  as  a  pretext  to  induce  me  to  consent. 
At  length  I  had  the  choice  left  me  between  the  hateful  service, 
the  fortress,  or  flight.  With  your  mother's  consent,  I  chose 
the  latter. 

"  It  pained  me  to  leave  her  in  such  a  situation.  But  with 
all  her  womanliness  of  feeling,  she  was  heroic.  Women  of 
this  kind,  of  independent  mind,  without  passion,  without  sen- 
suality, accustomed  to  practical  activity,  can  do  better  without 
their  husbands  than  many  others.  Their  love  finds  nourish- 
ment in  their  children,  their  activity  in  the  supervision  of  the 
household  and  in  the  management  of  the  property.  I  went 


260  THE  EXILES. 

to  England,  which  at  that  time  was  as  if  shut  off  by  the  no- 
torious Continental  System.  We  could  write  but  rarely  ; 
soon  my  fate  led  me  still  further  from  her. 
-  "  I  had  taken  service  again  immediately  on  my  arrival  ; 
for  war  had  just  been  declared  between  England  and  the 
United  States;  and  America,  with  its  fresh,  vigorous  life,  had 
long  been  the  object  of  my  desire.  But  the  regiment  of  which 
I- had  become  a  captain,  was  unexpectedly  ordered  to  India, 
instead  of  to  America.  I  was  content.  Two  years  of  the 
wildest  life  flew  by.  With  my  adventures  during  that  time,  I 
have  often  entertained  the  eagerly  listening  boy  ;  they  do  not 
belong  here.  When  the  intelligence  of  the  German  War  of 
Deliverance  reached  me,  the  longing  for  my  country  awoke 
within  me.  I  took  my  dismission;  but  on  my  arrival  in  Eng- 
land the  peace  of  Paris  had  just  been  concluded  ;  about  the 
same  time  that  of  Ghent  was  declared  ;  which,  at  least  for 
the  moment,  put  an  end  to  the  war  in  America,  as  the  former 
to  that  in  Europe. 

"  Now  only,  my  son,  does  my  guilt  begin.  My  duty,  I 
was  conscious  of  it,  recalled  me  to  my  wife,  to  my  children. 
But  that  is  just  the  danger  of  a  roving,  adventurous,  unre- 
strained mode  of  life,  that  it  destroys  all  taste  for  the  nobler 
pleasures  of  the  soul.  Generally,  a  keenly-felt  evil  appears 
smaller  in  looking  back  upon  it,  than  it  did  at  the  time  of  its 
existence.  But  I  had  only  come  to  a  full  consciousness  of  the 
weight  of  my  chains,  since  I  had  shaken  them  off  ;  for  your 
mother's  loveliness,  her  kindness,  her  high  moral  dignity, 
often  made  them  appear  to  me,  as  long  as  I  was  bound,  only 
like  chains  of  roses.  And  should  I  now  voluntarily  put  them 
on  again,  should  I,  in  the  fullness  of  youthful  vigour,  volun- 
tarily return  to  the  prison  hung  round  with  flowers  ?  I  could 
not  do  it  ;  at  least,  not  until  the  wish  of  my  youth  had  been 
fulfilled,  and  I  had  seen  America. 

"  There  were  still  British  troops  in  America.  I  succeeded 
in  obtaining  an  appointment  as  courier  and  bearer  of  des- 


THE   LETTER.  261 

patches  to  General  Drummond.  Meanwhile,  the  peace  was 
ratified,  in  February,  1815;  the  troops  returned;  I  remained 
in  the  United  States  on  leave  of  absence,  and  satisfied  my 
curiosity  ;  as  a  British  officer,  I  was  in  great  favour,  and  as 
a  German,  an  unprejudiced  observer.  Few,  however,  knew 
my  origin.  While  I  was  serving  in  Sicily,  I  had  consented 
to  the  transformation  of  my  name,  Hubert,  into  Uberto. 
This  name  had  won  a  good  sound  in  the  army  during  the 
Spanish  war,  and  I  had  therefore  assumed  it  again  when  I 
followed  the  English  banner  for  the  second  time.  I  was 
called  Major  Uberto. 

"  Meanwhile  the  heroic  Indian  tribes  in  Florida  had  re- 
commenced their  disturbances.  General  Jackson  was  ordered 
to  collect  troops  to  lead  against  them,  and  I  was  seized  with 
a  desire  to  try  my  luck  under  the  hero  of  New  Orleans.  I 
joined  his  little  army  as  a  volunteer.  The  militia  of  Georgia 
was  called  out,  and  the  wild  Seminoles  retreated  before  the 
masses  into  their  swampy  forests.  Thus  there  was  not  much, 
to  be  done  for  the  present. 

"  I  was  therefore  well  pleased  with  an  order  which  I  re- 
ceived to  take  possession  of  Amelia  Island  with  my  company. 
This  island,  situated  in  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Mary  river, 
near  the  southern  boundary  of  Georgia,  had  been  occupied 
by  a  party  of  adventurers  in  the  name  of  one  of  the  detached 
Spanish  colonies,  who  had  raised  there  the  flag  of  New 
Grenada  and  Venezuela.  But  the  United  States,  which 
were  just  at  that  time  negotiating  with  the  Spanish  govern- 
ment about  the  transfer  of  Florida,  had  no  time  to  lose,  in 
making  good  their  claim  to  this  island,  which  had  always 
belonged  to  the  Floridas. 

"  We  soon  succeeded  in  scattering  the  marauders.  But  it 
was  not  so  easy  to  overcome  the  aversion  of  the  inhabitants. 
A  proud,  queenly  woman  had  taken  up  her  residence  on  this 
island,  of  Spanish  descent,  who,  although  married  to  an 
Anglo-American,  abhorred  her  husband's  nation.  Donna 


262  THE   EXILES. 

Lucia  Losada  Castleton — this  was  her  name — hated  us  as 
enemies,  and  despised  us  as  heretics ;  in  her  impotent  wrath 
she  could  do  nothing  to  injure  us,  but  increase  our  ennui  by 
obstinately  denying  us  all  access  to  her  house,  the  only  one 
of  higher  class  in  Fernandina,  the  chief  town  of  the  island, 
and  nothing  to  offend  us,  but  dart  venomous  glances  at  us 
whenever  she  met  us  in  her  rides  on  the  beach.  We  younger 
ones  were  amused  at  the  old  lady's  rage.  We  sought  her 
presence  so  as  to  exasperate  her  by  our  intrusiveness.  But 
we  had  a  stronger  motive  for  meeting  her,  in  the  circumstance 
that  she  was  every  day  accompanied  by  a  young  girl  of 
singular  loveliness,  a  glowing  and  fragrant  bud  scarcely 
opened,  her  daughter,  who  had  lately  come  home  from  the 
convent,  and  looked  upon  the  pleasures  of  the  world  with 
eyes  full  of  wonder  and  expectation.  I  also  saw  this  ravish- 
ing creature  in  church,  at  the  daily  early  mass,  and  besides 
this  on  the  innumerable  holidays  of  the  land.  She  found  a 
way  skillfully  to  lift  her  veil  for  a  moment,  and  could  say 
more  in  that  one  glowing,  half-inquiring,  half-answering 
glance,  than  others  .in  hours  of  gazing.  But  from  mere 
glances  we  soon  progressed. 

"  The  wife  of  the  gardener,  who  lived  at  the  farthest  end 
of  the  garden,  had  been  Josepha's  nurse.  She  was  a  quad- 
roon, finely  formed,  and  still  young,  with  languishing,  desireful 
eyes,  who  had  tasted  too  deeply  of  the  joys  of  love,  not  to 
indulge  her  favourite  with  a  foretaste  of  them.  I  made  her 
acquaintance  in  coming  from  church  on  the  eve  of  a  great 
festival,  and  recommended  myself  to  her  by  the  present  of 
a  gaudy  bracelet,  which  I  asked  her  to  wear  on  the  morrow; 
this  won  me  her  heart  at  once.  For  the  love  of  dress  of  the 
Southerners,  particularly  of  the  coloured  and  mixed  races, 
oversteps  all  bounds,  and  the  satisfaction  of  this  passion  is 
the  surest  means  of  winning  them.  She  invited  me,  without 
making  a  further  understanding  necessary,  to  come  and  see 


THE   LETTER.  263 

her  the  next  morning,  '  to  get  some  flowers  for  a  bouquet/ 
as  she  said. 

"  The  gardener's  cottage  had  an  entrance  from  a  back 
street,  which  could  not  be  seen  from  Donna  Lucia's  house, 
as  the  latter,  after  the  very  appropriate  southern  style  of 
building,  was  entirely  without  windows  on  the  sunny  side. 
I  reached  my  destination  in  due  time,  by  the  back  way, 
which  had  been  described  to  me.  The  loveliest  sight  met 
my  eyes.  The  gardener's  assistant  had  just  brought  in  the 
freshly-cut  flowers,  and  emptied  the  immense  baskets  on  the 
verandah.  Of  the  gayest  colours,  and  sparkling  with  the 
morning  dew,  the  fragrant  carpet  was  spread  out  at  the  feet 
of  Josepha,  who  sat  in  the  midst  of  it  on  a  low  stool,  in  an 
airy  morning-dress  of  spotless  white,  her  lap  covered  with 
flowers.  It  was  an  enchanting  scene.  I  saw  her  for  the 
first  time  entirely  without  a  veil.  She  had  come  to  select 
for  herself  the  fairest  flowers,  and  offer  up  a  bouquet  of  them 
to  the  saint  whose  feast  was  celebrated  to-day.  I  stood  still 
in  delight,  lost  in  the  view,  drinking  in  the  charms  of  the 
exquisite  picture. 

"  She  was  startled  when  she  saw  me.  The  shrewd  nurse 
had  not  prepared  her  for  my  coming.  The  Spanish  was  as 
familiar  to  me  as  my  mother  tongue,  but  I  needed  no  small 
eloquence  to  induce  her  to  speak.  For  her  lips  were  far 
more  timid  than  her  eyes.  Altogether  there  was  in  this 
sweet  young  creature  a  singular  mixture  of  nun-like  reserve, 
and  desire  for  the  fruits  of  life;  the  deep  consuming  fire  of 
the  Spaniard,  and  the  languishing,  voluptuous,  yielding  soft- 
ness of  the  Creole.  This  was  the  first  of  a  series  of  meetings ; 
at  first  only  rare,  for  the  hours  had  to  be  watched  for  when 
the  old  gardener  was  busy  at  the  other  end  of  the  garden, 
and  only  for  moments,  for  as  long  as  the  day  lasted  there 
was  danger  of  discovery. 

"  Perhaps  it  was  my  evil  genius,  or  certainly  Josepha's, 
which  put  into  the  head  of  Donna  Lucia,  who,  meanwhile,- 


264  TUB    EXILES. 

was  constantly  intriguing  against  us  officers,  the  idea  of 
sending  the  old  gardener,  in  whom  she  placed  particular 
confidence,  on  a  message  to  the  governor  of  St.  Augustine. 
This  gave  us  freedom  for  the  evenings.  Thus  this  vile 
poisoner  brewed  her  own  ruin. 

"Her  mother's  orders  obliged  Josepha  to  retire  early; 
the  former  generally  came  to  her  room  after  her  daughter 
had  already  kissed  her  hand,  and  taken  leave  for  the  night, 
examined  her  upon  the  due  performance  of  her  devotions, 
and  put  out  the  light,  when  she  was  in  bed.  Then  she  with- 
drew to  her  own  room,  which  she  rarely  left  again  before 
morning.  This  was  the  signal  for  perfect  silence  throughout 
the  house. 

"  Now  Josepha  would  arise,  throw  her  black  mantilla 
over  her  thin  night-dress,  and,  on  tiptoe,  creep  out  into  the 
garden.  I  still  see  her,  as,  in  the  warm  twilight  of  those 
southern  nights,  trembling  with  fear  and  desire,  she  would 
glide  along  under  the  orange-trees,  fanned  by  balmy  frag- 
rance, to  the  summer-house  concealed  by  bushes,  where  the 
longing  arms  of  love  were  awaiting  her.  Poor  Josepba! 

"  You  can  conjecture  the  rest.  Josepha  was  beside  her- 
self. To  pacify  her,  I  procured  a  vagabond  Spanish  priest, 
whom  the  adventurers  we  had  turned  out  had  left  behind 
them,  to  marry  us.  Yes,  Franz,  I  did  that  !  I  took  the 
step  which,  before  the  world,  before  the  law,  made  me  an 
adulterer.  But  before  the  Judge  on  High  I  had  long  been 
that;  I  had  become  one  when  I  left  your  virtuous  mother. 

"  Some  time  after  I  was  ordered  to  remove  my  company 
from  Amelia.  Island  to  West  Florida.  Jackson  had  besieged 
Pensacola;  the  colonists  of  Spanish  blood  had  a  secret 
understanding  with  the  Seminoles,  and  our  troops  were  at 
length  brought  to  some  activity.  I  went  with  a  heavy  heart, 
and  would  have  given  half  my  life  to  be  able  to  recall  the 
last  five  or  six  months.  I  left  behind  me  a  servant,  who 
kept  up  an  intercourse  with  the  nurse,  in  order  to  receive 

' 


THE   LETTEH.  265 

intelligence  of  Josepha  through  her.  He  soon  communicated 
to  me  that  the  mother  had  discovered  the  situation  of  the 
poor  creature,  which  had  thrown  her  into  an  ungovernable 
rage;  that  she  kept  her  daughter  confined  on  bread  and 
water,  aud  even  personally  abused  her.  I  felt  the  necessity 
of  rescuing  her.  Nothing  was  left  but  to  carry  her  off,  in 
which  I  succeeded  by  stratagem. 

"  The  cruel  treatment  of  her  mother  had  brought  Josepha 
to  a  terrible  state;  her  mental  powers,  nevgr  very  strong, 
were  entirely  confused  by  these  events;  only  the  fullness  of 
love  could  cure  her,  but  my  love  soon  grew  mere  pity.  She 
lived  in  Pensacola  as  my  wife  for  nearly  two  years,  made  me 
father  of  a  son,  and,  hardly  a  year  later,  of  a  daughter,  aud 
clung  to  me  with  a  daily  increasing,  consuming,  insane 
passion.  She  watched  my  steps,  persecuted  me  with  jealous 
distrust,  overwhelmed  me  with  reproachful  lamentations,  in 
short,  did  everything  to  make  herself  burdensome,  and  life  a 
hell  to  me. 

"  But  what  served  particularly  to  torment  me,  was  that 
her  conscience  began  to  trouble  her  for  having  yielded  herself 
up  to  a  heretic,  and  that  she  hoped,  from  what  some  con- 
founded priest  had  probably  put  into  her  head,  to  conciliate 
Heaven  by  my  conversion.  She  left  me  no  peace  by  night 
and  by  day  with  her  bigoted  persecution ;  she  watched  in 
mortal  terror  every  bit  of  meat  which  1  ate  on  Friday,  secretly 
sewed  a  cross  into  my  clothes,  and  more  absurdities  of  the 
kind.  But  she  was  not  satisfied  with  these  ;  she  sent  a  priest 
after  me,  whom  she  thought  more  gifted  with  the  power  of 
persuasion  than  herself,  and  would,  doubtless,  have  repeated 
this  step,  if  I  had  not,  the  first  time,  thrust  him  out  of  the 
house  in  a  manner  which  made  him  lose  all  inclination  to  come 
again. 

"  Her  chief  hope,  though,  was  in  a  miraculous  image  of  the 
virgin,  cut  in  ivory,  which  had  been  for  centuries  in  her 
mother's  family,  and  had  given  it  great  sanctity.  In  the 
12 


266  THE   EXILES. 

belief  that  this  sanctity  was  connected  with  its  possession, 
she  urged  the  little  work  of  art  upon  me.  It  was  among  my 
things  when  .1  left  her ;  the  only  reminiscence  which  I  have 
of  her. 

"  Yes,  I  was  terribly  punished.  These  two  years  were  the 
most  unhappy  of  my  life.  Like  a  holy  image  your  mother's 
form  stood  day  and  night  before  my  soul,  gazing  upon  me,  not 
reproachfully,  but  calmly,  pityingly,  with  those  clear,  grave 
eyes,  and  whispering  to  me :  ''Poor  Hubert,  what  have  you 
done !  With  your  own  careless  hand,  you  have  shattered 
your  paradise  !' — Even  her  little  peculiarities,  which  formerly, 
in  my  blind  folly,  made  me  impatient,  I  now  learned  to 
admire  and  love,  now,  when  the  opposite  qualities,  disorder, 
wasting,  want  of  regularity,  slovenliness,  made  my  domestic 
life  the  most  uncomfortable  and  disgusting.  How  impatiently 
did  I  long,  during  Josepha's  childish  tattle,  or  the  unreason- 
able expressions  of  her  totally  undeveloped  mind,  for  the 
cordial,  sensible,  sympathizing  conversations  of  my  German 
wife  ;  how  fervently,  from  Josepha's  fiery  embraces,  for  her 
self-denying,  chaste,  tender  love  ! 

"  She  was  avenged  !  I  was  immeasurably  wretched!  In 
reality  I  had  always  carried  her  about  with  me  ia  a  corner 
of  my  heart.  I  had  a  miniature  of  her,  taken  during  our 
engagement.  From  its  being  more  portable  than  a  larger, 
later  picture,  I  had  taken  it  with  me  instead,  and  had  suc- 
ceeded in  keeping  it  safe  through  all  the  storms  of  war  and 
my  various  adventures.  This  picture  Josepha  once  found 
upon  me.  Without  reflecting,  she  took  it  for  the  portrait  of 
a  cotemporary  rival,  overwhelmed  me  with  reproaches,  and 
filled  my  breast  with  cold,  bitter  contempt.  I  took  the 
picture  from  her  hand,  and  said,  regardless  of  her  feelings, 
fixing  my  eyes  alternately  on  the  mild,  quiet  features  of  the 
portrait  and  on  her  own  face  glowing  with  anger,  her  eye 
sparkling  with  rage  :  '  Signora,  you  really  present  to  me  at 
this  moment  such  a  contrast,  that  I  only  regret  not  being  a 


THE   LETTER.  267 

painter,  that  could  depict  Heaven  and  Hell.  Here,'  I  con- 
tinued, with  unrestrained  bitterness,  pointing  to  the  picture, 
'here  would  be  a  perfect  type  of  the  angels  .who  dwell  in 
Heaven  ;  when  I  look  at  you — ' 

"  She  did  not  suffer  me  to  finish.  "With  a  volley  of  impre- 
cations, she  snatched  the  picture  from  my  hand,  threw  it  on 
the  ground,  and  trampled  upon  it  in  senseless  fury.  This  put 
me  too  beyond  all  control.  I  was  cruel.  I  told  her  that 
the  original  of  the  portrait  was  living,  and  my  lawful  wife, 
that  I  belonged  only  to  her  ;  that  I  had  been  married  to 
herself,  Josepha,  by  a  false  name.  I  disclosed  to  her  that  my 
name  was  Hubert,  and  that  Hubert's  only  legitimate  wife 
lived  in  distant  Europe,  but  that  she  herself  was  united  in 
criminal  bigamy  to  a  phantom. 

"  The  effect  of  these  unfortunate  words  was  terrible.  She 
was  completely  thunderstruck,  and  was  for  a  long  time  as  if 
paralyzed.  I  feared  I  had  killed  her.  During  the  succeeding 
days,  when  the  storm  was  followed  by  a  calm  of  weariness, 
and,  with  deep  sorrow,  I  saw  her  entirely  inconsolable,  I  tried 
long  in  vain  to  alleviate  the  severity  of  my  incautious  words. 
I  told  her  that  I  believed,  I  knew — that  my  first  wife  was 
dead.  I  manifested  towards  her  a  love  which  I  did  not  feel, 
only  to  pacify  her.  At  length  she  pretended  to  believe  me. 
But  she  remained  exceedingly  unhaprjy. 

"And  yet  I  was  still  more  so.  Added  to  this,  I  had  been 
for  some  time  weary  of  this  cruel,  resultless  massacring  of  the 
Seminoles,  and  was  longing  fervently  to  escape  from  this 
unhealthy,  half-barbarous  country.  I  had  long  found  this 
state  of  things  hard  to  bear.  But  what  should  I  do  with 
this  unfortunate  woman,  where  should  I  leave  her,  without 
protection  or  refuge  ?  She  was  like  a  helpless  child  !  To  put 
her  in  charge  of  her  mother  would  have  been  the  greatest 
cruelty.  And  her  father,  a  kind  man,  had  been  for  a  long 
tune  in  Europe,  as  ambassador  to  Spain,  I  believe. 

"  Suddenly,  one  day,  when  our  youngest  child  was  just  three 


2G8  THE   EXILES. 

months  old,  I  read  in  the  papers  that  Mr.  William  Castleton 
had  landed  in  New  York,  and  proceeded  to  Washington,  to 
visit  from  there  his  estates  in  Florida.  My  resolve  was  taken. 
I  secretly  sent  in  my  resignation,  left  all  of  money  and  articles 
of  value  that  I  could  possibly  spare  to  Josepha,  and  went  in  a 
South  American  merchant-vessel,  which  was  just  putting  out 
to  sea,  to  Vera  Cruz,  and  from  there  to  Peru,  where  I  aided 
under  the  noble  Bolivar,  in  thoroughly  freeing  Columbia  from 
the  dominion  of  Spanish  monks.  From  my  confidential  servant, 
who  had  settled  as  farmer  near  Tallahassee,  I  learned,  at  a 
later  period,  that  Josepha  had  resumed  the  name  of  Castle- 
ton,  and  had  entered  a  convent,  but  that  my  children  enjoyed 
the  whole  care  of  their  affectionate  grandfather.  To  keep 
them  at.  a  distance  from  their  grandmother,  they  have  doubt- 
less been  educated  in  the  family  of  Josepha's  elder  brother, 
Richard  Castleton,  who  has  since  repeatedly  been  senator,  and 
governor  of  South  Carolina,  and  have  been  cared  for  in  the 
best  way. 

"  I  wish,  at  least,  to  think  this  ;  for  I  have  never  heard 
anything  more  of  them.  Several  letters,  which  I  sent  to  the 
farmer  of  Tallahassee,  have  remained  unanswered  ;  he  is 
probably  dead,  or  has  emigrated  to  the  far  West.  He  was 
the  only  one  who  knew  my  secret. 

"Among  all  the  storms  of  war  my  heart  knew  no  peace.  I 
longed  for  a  haven,  and  had  the  courage  to  return  to  my 
deserted  wife,  my  deserted  children.  Her  indescribable 
goodness  heaped  coals  of  fire  upon  my  guilty  head.  Not  a 
single  reproach  passed  her  lips.  I  felt  like  the  sinner  who 
kneels  before  the  image  of  a  saint  ;  he  feels  his  whole  guilt, 
but  without  the  shame,  which  humbles  him  only  in  the 
presence  of  human  beings.  I  lived  among  you  as  happily  as 
a  guilty  man  can.  Three  years  later  she  died,  an  angelic 
smile  upon  her  lips  ;  I  was  inwardly  conscious,  though  perhaps 
no  one  else  suspected  it,  that  the  worm  of  grief  had  secretly 
eaten  away  the  blossom  of  her  youth. 


THE   LETTER.  269 

"-The  outward  circumstances  of  Germany,  my  deceived, 
ever  striving,  desiring,  never  acting  country,  disgusted  me  ; 
nothing  but  the  satisfactory  development  of  my  children 
afforded  me  consolation.  Your  sister,  in  her  measured,  prac- 
tical nature,  resembled  her  mother  ;  but  I  often  noticed,  with 
a  submissive  smile,  how  your  inner  being,  the  ungovernable 
poetic  tendency  of  your  soul,  broke  through  all  bounds  of  a 
regular,  strict,  systematic  education.  Your  mother's  rigid 
morality,  and  your  father's  free  spirit,  were  beneficially  united 
in  you. 

"  The  cruel  sentence  which  was  passed  upon  you  was  the 
heaviest  blow  that  could  have  struck  me.  I  approve  of  your 
resolution  of  going  to  America  as  soon  as  you  are  allowed 
to  ;  but  this  resolution  makes  the  disclosure  of  my  secret  a 
duty.  It  is  not  exactly  probable,  but  possible,  that  you  may 
meet  your  brother,  your  sister  there.  Your  brother's  name 
was  Alonzo,  your  sister's  Virginia,  the  former  called  so  after 
Josepha's  grandfather  on  her  mother's  side,  the  latter  after 
her  grandmother  on  her  father's  side.  Perhaps  they  have 
never  learnt  the  true  name  of  their  and  your  father,  still,  it 
is  possible  that  it  has  been  communicated  to  them.  You 
had  therefore  better  take  there  the  name  of  our  estate,  Ber- 
ghedorf;  call  yourself  Hubert  von  Berghedorf.  This  may 
add  to  make  the  veil  that  hangs  over  the  past  more  impene- 
trable. May  the  evil  that  I  have  sown,  at  least  not  bear 
fruits  which  might  be  injurious  to  my  own  children,  while  I 
myself  bow  my  guilty  head  with  submission  before  a  righteous, 
but  also  a  merciful  Judge." 


270  THE   EXILES. 


CHAPTER  XYIII. 

THE    END    OF    THE    STORY,    AND   TWO    MORE    LETTERS. 

AFTER  Clotilde  had  read  this  ominous  letter,  she  sat  for 
awhile  as  if  stunned,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the  paper.  What 
it  revealed  to  her  was  so  totally  unexpected,  that  she  could 
hardly  credit  her  senses.  Alonzo  Hubert's  brother  1  Now 
the  memory  of  her  first  awaking  from  deep  unconsciousness 
on  this  continent  rose  up  before  her,  when  Alonzo  stood  by 
her  side  with  pity  in  his  eye,  and  she  thought  she  saw  Hubert, 
the  lost  one,  before  her.  And  how  often  afterwards,  in  the 
delirium  of  fever,  had  his  and  Hubert's  features  been  mingled 
together  before  her  mind's  eye  !  She  also  remembered  the 
mystery  which,  as  Alonzo  had  told  her,  hung  over  his  father's 
death,  how  hastily  he  passed  over  the  circumstances  connected 
with  his  birth,  the  sadness  which  came  over  him  whenever  he 
spoke  of  his  father.  Without  doubt  he  suspected,  perhaps 
he  knew  what  a  blemish  was  attached  to  his  existence.  He, 
so  proud,  how  bitterly  must  he  feel  it.  He  thought  himself 
of  English  descent ;  Uberto,  as  an  English  officer,  had  passed 
for  an  Englishman.  His  son  had  probably  never  learnt  his 
real  name  ;  otherwise  the  name  of  him  whom  she  had  lost, 
and  for  whom  he  had  made  so  many  inquiries  for  her  benefit, 
would  have  struck  him  unpleasantly.  Perhaps  Josepha 
herself,  in  her  awful  terror,  had  overheard  it  entirely.  The 
deep  remorse  and  long  penance  of  this  unhappy  woman,  also, 
were  now  more  easily  explained.  "  How  wondrous,"  cried 
Clotilde,  "  how  inexplicable  are  the  dispensations  of  Provi- 


THE   E.ND   OF   THE   STORY.  271 

deuce !  Oh  !  do  Thou,  merciful  God,  show  me  the  way  to 
aid  my  dear  husband  in  atoning  for  the  heavy  sin  of  his 
father  !" 

Hubert  now  returned  to  her,  sad,  as  he  had  left  her. 
"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  my  Clotilde,  what  was  the  grief  at  my 
father's  death  to  that  which  I  felt  in  reading  this  letter  ! 
Would  I  had  never  opened  it  !  That  I  had  his  pure  image 
still  in  my  heart  !  It  seems  to  me  as  if  I  could  bear  this  more 
easily  if  he  were  still  living  ;  but  of  the  dead  particularly  we 
must  be  able  to  think  with  pure  feelings  if  we  would  love  to 
think  of  them  !"  Both  husband  and  wife  relieved  their  hearts 
by  conversing  more  particularly  about  the  different  details  of 
these  events,  and  the  singular  fate  which  had  led  Clotilde  to 
the  same  spot,  dependent  on  the  bounty  of  others,  on  which 
the  father  of  her  husband,  in  wanton  sensuality,  had  brought 
such  a  curse.  Then  Hubert  continued  his  relation  : 

"Among  the  effects  which  my  sister  sent  after  me,  I  found 
the  ivory  image  of  the  Virgin  which  the  letter  mentions.  She 
had  stood  at  my  father's  death-bed.  In  spite  of  the  heavy 
burden  which  lie  bore  in  his  heart,  he  had  entered  upon  his 
journey  with  perfect  calmness,  prepared  to  meet  the  unavoid- 
able with  a  submission  which  you  pious  ones  usually  deem 
your  special  privilege.  At  the  verbal  disposition  which  he 
made  of  his  property,  he  had  mentioned  this  image,  and 
directed  my  sister  to  deliver  it  .to  me,  as  belonging  to  the 
letter  in  question. 

"  This  little  work  of  art  is  a  family-piece,  and  was  made 
in  Spain,  expressly  for  the  Losadas.  Their  coat  of  arms  is 
engraved  on  it  several  times  ;  for  instance,  in  a  small  crown 
which  decorates  the  head  of  the  queen  of  heaven,  in  a  clasp 
which  fastens  her  cloak,  and  at  her  feet,  in  the  pedestal  on 
which  she  stands.  On  the  back  is  an  inscription  of  later  date, 
to  the  effect  that  Annunciata  Losada,  Josepha's  eldest  grand- 
aunt,  who  afterwards  entered  a  convent,  and  acquired  the 
savour  of  exceeding  sanctity,  had  given  this  image  to  the 


272  THE   EXILES. 

latter  in  her  capacity  of  godmother.  This  inscription  seems 
only  to  have  been  made  when  the  unhappy  Josepha  left  the 
protecting  convent,  and  was  exposed  to  the  dangers  of  the 
world.  Without  doubt,  the  poor  young  creature,  in  her  pious 
delusion,  hoped  that  its  influence  would  be  greater  on  her 
husband  than  on  herself. 

"  You  know  now  why  I  called  myself  Berghedorf ;  and 
why  the  name  of  Castleton  affected  me  so.  The  note  which 
Virginia  had  written  me,  was  an  invitation  to  give  her, 
during  her  stay  iu-  Rockaway,  lessons  in  the*  German  lan- 
guage, of  which  she  was  exceedingly  fond,  and  which  she  had 
little  opportunity  for  learning  at  the  South.  I  was  confused. 
But  the  proposal  made  a  particularly  strong  impression  upon 
me,  because  I  imagined  that  Virginia  Castleton  was  my  sis- 
ter !" 

"The  name  deceived  you,"  said  Clotilde.  "Your  and 
Alonzo's  sister,  who,  as  I  see  from  the  letter,  bore,  like  her, 
the  family  name  of  Virginia,  died  when  a  very  young  child." 

"  So  I  learned  from  subsequent  conversations  with  Virginia. 
The  great  dissimilarity  between  her  and  her  sister  Sarah,  in 
their  outward  appearance  as  well  as  in  their  whole  manner, 
had  only  strengthened  me  in  the  preconceived  idea  that  they 
were  merely  cousins.  Perhaps  this  circumstance  may  have 
given  my  manner  towards  Virginia  something  gentle  and  ten- 
der, which  she,  not  unnaturally,  explained  otherwise.  Per- 
haps, too my  heart  was  indescribably  desolate ' 

"  Go  on,"  said  Clotilde,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the  ground. 

"  Dearest  Clotilde,  I  need  not  blush  before  you.  I  will 
not  deceive  you,  will  not  say  that  I  coldly  and  unfeelingly 
repulsed  the  full,  burning  heart  which  a  beautiful  girl,  all  fire, 
all  life,  offered  to  me  with  an  indiscretion  which  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  invaluable  gift  which  it  brought,  deprived 
of  everything  indelicate  and  unwomanly.  I  would  have  been 
more  than  human  had  I  not  felt  moved  by  this." 

"  Say  rather,  more  than  a  man,"  interrupted  Clotilde, 


THE   END   OF   THE   STORY.  273 

with  a  smile,  from  which  she  strove  in  vain  to  banish  all  bit- 
terness. 

"  Perhaps  so,"  replied  he,  while  he  tried  to  take  her  hand, 
which  she  withdrew  from  him  under  some  pretext.  "  I  was 
in  the  most  dangerous  situation.  But  my  heart  remained 
faithful  to  you,  Clotilde.  As  long  as  I  was  with  Virginia,  as 
long  as  I  breathed  the  atmosphere  of  her  beauty,  her — love,  I 
was  seized,  perhaps  I  ought  not  to  deny  it,  with  a  kind  of 
bewilderment ;  but  when  I  was  away  from  her,  I  saw  only 
you,  Clotilde,  only  your  pale,  angelic  face,  as  I  had  seen  it  in 
that  night  of  horror  !" 

"  Franz,"  said  Clotilde,  with  emotion,  "  you  could  think  of 
me  only  as  of  the  dead.  Yes,  I  was  dead  to  you.  I  forgive 
you,  if  you,  the  survivor,  turned  to  the  living  ;  if,  with  your 
desolate,  widowed  heart,  you — loved  her  !" 

"  Clotilde,"  he  replied,  "  the  heart  of  man  is  an  unfathom- 
able abyss.  Nevertheless,  I  think  I  can  say,  I  loved  only 
you,  Clotilde.  Yes,  I  believed  you  dead  ;  but  I  was  not  yet 
without  a  dim  hope  that  a  miracle  might  have  spared  you  to 
me  ;  it  was  only  in  the  course  of  time  that  it  died  away  in  my 
heart  entirely.  And  then — I  wished  to  be  faithful  to  you  ! 
I  was  appalled  at  the  thought  that  you  should  be  lying  in  a 
cold,  watery  grave  for  me,  while  I*  for  whom  you  angel  had 
sacrificed  yourself,  was  drinking  in  life's  full  cup.  I  tore  my- 
self away.  I  left  Rockaway,  and  bade  farewell  to  Virginia 
in  a  few  hasty  lines." 

"  And  when  you  saw  her  again,  Hubert  ?" 

"  I  confess  I  was  totally  disconcerted,  when  she  suddenly 
stood  before  me  on  the  mountain,  shone  round  by  the  glow 
of  the  rising  sun,  as  by  a  glory.  It  seemed  to  me  for  some 
moments  as  if  a  new  sun  of  life  were  rising  to  me,  as  if  fate 
itself  had  brought  her  to  me  again.  If  I  have  ever  sinned 
against  you  in  my  heart,  Clotilde,  it  was  during  these  days. 
She  had  no  doubt  that  I  had  followed  her;  she  was  so  happy, 
so  sure  of  victory,  so — radiant  with  consciousness  and  joy — " 
12* 


274  THE   EXILES. 

"  Had  you  followed  her  ?" 

"  Nothing  could  be  more  accidental  than  ray  meeting  with 
her.  The  sea  air  had  been  of  little  benefit  to  me.  My 
medical  friend  proposed  mountain  air,  and  one  of  my  German 
acquaintances  in  New  York  offered  to  be  my  companion  and 
guide.  When  we  parted,  I  promised  to  write  to  her  and  see 
her  soon  again.  But  hardly  was  I  freed  from  her  urgent, 
seductive  influence,  when  I  felt  decidedly  that,  even  if  my 
heart  were  disengaged,  it  ought  to  attach  itself  least  of  all 
women  in  the  world  to  Virginia  Castleton.  Had  not  the 
father  sown  enough  of  misery  into  this  house  ;  should  the  son 
too,  with  thoughtless  hand,  scatter  here  the  poisonous  seed  ?  I 
did  not  write  to  her,  and  the  winter  passed  without  her  hear- 
ing from  me." 

"But  you  came  to  Charleston,"  said  Clotilde,  with  a 
faint  blush. 

"  You  surely  do  not  regret  that,  dearest  heart  ?"  asked 
Hubert,  kissing  her  cheek  with  a  smile.  "  I  came,  but  with- 
out the  slightest  reference  to  Virginia.  I  did  not  expect  to 
see  her  there,  her,  who  moved  in  fashionable  circles,  while 
my  sphere  lay  in  an  entirely  different  direction.  I  remained 
in  New  York  through  the  winter.  I  studied  the  history,  the 
constitution  of  this  country.  Its  institutions  interested  me  ; 
more  than  by  any  other,  my  sympathy  was  aroused  by  the 
slavery-question.  I  did  not  approve  of  the  doings  of  the  Aboli- 
tionists ;  their  cause  was  mine,  their  mode  of  proceeding  dis- 
pleased me.  It  seemed  easy  to  rant  and  abuse  in  safety  at 
the  North,  easy  first  to  excite  the  poor  slaves,  and  then  leave 
them  to  their  fate.  I  became  convinced  that  the  only  true 
way  of  liberating  the  unfortunate  creatures,  was  to  gain  an 
influence  over  their  masters. 

"  I  had  become  acquainted  with  Atkinson,  who  attached 
himself  to  me  with  over-complaisancy.  I  sympathized  more 
with  him,  when  I  saw  him,  apparently  in  the  midst  of  danger 
for  himself,  busied  in  clearing  the  way  to  liberty  for  a  number 


THE   END   OF   THE   STORY.  275 

of  fugitives.  But  a  suspicion  was  roused  against  him.  He 
thought  himself  no  longer  safe.  After  he  had  skilfully  led  the 
unfortunates  to  a  full  consciousness  of  their  degradation,  after 
he  had  opened  to  them  the  door  of  the  hope  of  tearing  them- 
selves from  their  bondage,  after  he  had  increased  their  thirst 
for  liberty  almost  to  frenzy,  he  suddenly  deserted  them.  He 
fled  or  hid  himself.  Then  I  took  pity  on  the  poor  creatures. 
The  rest  you  know." 

"  Noble  heart !"  said  Clotilde,  pressing  his  hand.  "  And 
Virginia  ?" 

"  Quite  unexpectedly  I  received  a  note  from  her,  summon- 
ing me  to  a  lonely  part  of  the  suburb,  where  we  would  be  secure 
from  observation.  Here  I  saw  her  repeatedly,  thickly  veiled. 
She  wished  me  to  abstain  from  my  dangerous  activity,  and  that 
I  should  visit  her  at  her  house,  as  her  former  teacher.  She  told 
me  that  the  custom  of  the  country  permitted  her  to  receive 
me  day  by  day  without  her  father's  knowing  anything  about 
it  ;  but  even  if  he  should  accideuially  be  informed  of  it,  she 
had  an  independent  fortune  ;  she  was  of  age,  and  could  act 
without  consulting  his  opinion,  though  in  other  cases  she 
should  always  prefer  to  regard  his  wishes. 

"  It  had  not  escaped  me  that  parental  authority  does  not 
extend  very  far  in  this  country  ;  I  therefore  employed  the 
last  expedient  by  saying  :  '  If  you  would  do  that,  Virginia, 
you  must  not  bestow  your  favour  upon  me.  Your  father 
is — must  be  my  enemy.  He  can  never  suffer  my  presence  in 
his  house.  I  cannot  explain  this  to  you  ;  you  must  believe 
my  word  in  this.'  It  seemed  as  if  the  mystic  darkness  which 
surrounded  me  made  me  only  the  more  interesting  to  her 
romantic,  eccentric  mind.  But  perhaps  I  wrong  her.  It 
was  the  presentiment  of  my  danger,  it  was  pity,  which,  noble 
and  generous  as  she  had  ever  shown  herself  to  me,  bound 
her  to  me  more  closely.  She  had  only  to  give,  to  sacrifice  ; 
she  could  speak  openly.  Rich,  indulged,  the  adored  daughter 
of  the  house,  the  star  of  her  social  circle,  she  was  willing  to 


276  THE   EXILES. 

sacrifice  for  the  poor  exile,  the  unhappy  fugitive,  all  that  she 
was,  everything  that  she  possessed  !" 

Hubert  was  deeply  moved  by  the  recollection  of  the 
beautiful,  loving  girl.  For  a  moment  he  forgot  Clotilde's 
presence  ;  he  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  and  his  young 
wife  was  not  heartless,  not  selfish  enough,  to  feel  any  anger 
when  she  saw  hot  tears  stealing  through  his  fingers.  For  a 
few  minutes  they  sat  in  silence.  Then  Clotilde  said,  gently, 
taking  his  other  hand  :  "  Franz,  I,  too,  have  given  up  for 
you  everything  that  I  have,  all  that  I  am  !" 

Hubert  quickly  collected  himself  and  pressed  her  to  his 
heart.  "  Beloved,"  he  said,  "  and  may  you  accept  from  me 
all  that  /am,  all  that  /possess  !"  A  fervent  embrace  sealed 
this  exchange. 

Were  all  Clotilde's  misgivings  quieted  by  Hubert's  story  ? 
Did  it  satisfy  her  entirely  ?  We  dare  not  decide  ;  enough 
that  she  showed  no  other  feeling  towards  Hubert  than  love 
and  tenderness,  and  that,  though  she  often  thought  ofYir- 
ginia,  and  longed  to  hear  from  her,  she  yet  carefully  avoided 
speaking  of  her. 

The  young  couple  remained  for  some  weeks  in  Harrisburg, 
where  they  had  found  a  pleasant  and  cheap  boarding-house. 
They  wished  to  calm  themselves,  and  quietly  to  make  a  new 
plan  for  their  life.  Hubert,  too,  had  written  to  New  York 
for  letters  which  might  meanwhile  have  arrived  for  him  from 
Europe,  and  also  given  directions  to  forward  those  sent  there 
for  Clotilde. 

After  waiting  some  time  in  vain,  a  package  of  letters  at 
length  arrived  from  there,  on  one  of  which  Clotilde  recog- 
nised Sarah's  hand.  It  was  a  double  letter.  The  enclosure 
was  from  a  young  female  friend  of  Clotilde's  in  Germany,  to 
whom  she  had  written  from  Charleston.  Her  friend  ex- 
pressed, with  tender  sympathy,  her  pity  for  the  heavy  losses 
which  she  had  sustained  ;  she  did  not  suspect  that  the  chief 
one  of  these  had  already  been  repaired  to  her  by  the  good- 


Two   MORE   LETTERS.  277 

ness  of  God.  She  explained  to  her,  too,  the  unaccountable 
silence  of  the  Baron.  A  few  months  after  Clotilde's  depar- 
ture, and  before  he  had  heard  from  her,  he  had  accepted  a 
diplomatic  post  in  Stockholm,  and  from  there  had  joined 
an  important  scientific  expedition,  which  was  started,  under 
Russian  auspices,  for  the  purpose  of  exploring  the  extreme 
east  of  Europe,  and  the  adjoining  countries  of  Asia.  "  The 
farther  off,  the  better,"  he  had  replied,  with  a  strange  smile, 
to  Clotilde's  friend,  when  she  expressed  her  regret  that  he 
was  going  so  far  away.  When  she  wrote,  the  time  of  his 
return  was  not  yet  decided  ;  indeed,  it  had  been  rumoured 
that  he  intended  to  go  to  Persia.  He  had  left  an  able  man 
of  business,  who  would  attend  to  Clotilde's  orders  respecting 
the  scanty  remains  of  her  property,  and  also  defend  her 
claims  in  the  settlement  with  the  bankrupt  firm  in  New  York. 
The  letter  ended  with  affectionate  invitations  to  return  to  her 
friends,  and  belong  to  her  country  again.  Clotilde  resolved 
not  to  delay  in  re-assuring  her  sympathizing  friend  by  a 
letter. 

Then  she  turned  to  Sarah's  letter  again,  over  which  she 
had  only  glanced  hastily  before  she  read  the  other.  The 
letter  ran  as  follows  : 

"  CHARLESTON,  April  — ,  18 — . 
"  MY  DEAREST  CLOTILDE, 

"  The  ways  of  the  Lord  are  so  wonderful  and  incompre- 
hensible, that  it  is  surprising  how  we  poor,  weak,  blind 
creatures  can  still  presume  to  wish,  to  make  plans,  and  to 
try  to  master  Providence.  While  you  were  weeping  and 
lamenting,  while  you  thought  you  had  a  right  to  look  upon 
yourself  as  one  who  was  heavily  tried,  His  mild  paternal 
hand  had  miraculously  saved  your  friend,  and  restored  him 
to  you  in  a  way  hardly  more  comprehensible  io  us  poor  blind 
worms  of  the  earth  !  You  ask  me  to  forgive  you,  dear  Clo- 
tilde, for  going  from  me  secretly.  T  have  nothing  to  forgive 


278  THE    EXILES. 

you.  You  could  not  have  acted  otherwise,  without  endanger- 
ing the  possibility  of  escape.  '  Be  ye  wise  as  serpents,  and 
harmless  as  doves,'  saith  the  Scripture.  I  rather  thank  you 
that  you  did  not  let  me  into  your  secret,  as  it  would  have 
troubled  me  very  much. 

"  That  morning,  when  I  missed  you  from  my  side  in  bed, 
I  was  highly  surprised  not  to  find  you.  Immediately  after,  I 
saw  the  letter  to  Alonzo  on  the  table.  I  hastened  to  him;  he 
was  very  much  startled,  explained  everything  to  me,  and 
begged  me  not  to  mention  your  flight  to  my  father  for  the 
present,  but  to  leave  everything  to  time.  My  father  came 
home  to  dinner  highly  excited  ;  he  had  heard  of  the  prisoner's 
escape  at  his  office  ;  now  only  we  disclosed  to  him  the  state 
of  affairs.  I  was  afraid  he  would  be  very  angry,  but  instead 
of  that  I  saw  plainly  that  his  features  assumed  more  and 
more  an  expression  of  satisfaction.  He  seemed  to  be  pleased 
that  the  matter  had  taken  this  turn.  He  said  that  he  was 
glad  that  you  had  found  your  friend,  and  was  only  sorry  that 
you  had  not  spoken  before.  I  am,  however,  of  the  opinion 
that  you  have  taken  the  right  course  in  this  matter.  Soon 
after  this,  Alonzo  left  us  to  visit  his  mother.  He  intends  to 
return  in  a  few  weeks,  to  go  for  Virginia. 

"  From  the  latter,  strange  to  say,  we  have  not  yet  heard. 
Oh,  what  a  wrong  course  has  the  dear  girl  taken  for  quieting 
her  heart.  It  is  just  now  the  season  in  New  York  when 
Satan  is  busier  than  ever  in  spreading  his  nets  and  snares  of 
worldly  lust.  She  casts  herself  into  the  whirl  of  the  vain, 
sinful  world,  to  cure  wounds  to  which  only  fervent  prayer  to 
the  Lord,  and  the  interchange  of  the  experience  of  His  saints, 
can  bring  a  healing  balm.  I  do  not  think  so  badly  of  my 
sister  as  to  believe  that  she  would  now,  after  I  have  informed 
her  of  the  true  state  of  things,  still  cherish  a  sinful  affection 
for  the  husband,  of  another — that  she,  the  rich  one,  would 
desire  the  poor  man's  '  one  little  ewe-lamb.'  It  is  the  love  of 
the  world  which  carries  her  away  ;  her  balls,  her  operas,  her 


Two   MORE    LETTERS.  279 

soirees,  and  whatever  else  the  dances  around  the  golden  calf 
may  be  called  with  euphemistic  names  !  I  have  written  to 
her  twice,  and  .entreated  her  fervently  to  let  us  hear  from  her. 
I  hope  to  receive  an  answer  to  the  second  letter,  which  I  only 
sent  off  day  before  yesterday. 

"And  now  shall  I  tell  you  a  few  words  about  myself? 
Oh,  my  dear  Clotilde,  I  think  you  would  pity  your  poor 
Sarah,  if  you  were  to  see  her  now  !  In  vain  do  I  prolong 
my  morning  and  evening  prayer  by  half  an  hour  each,  and 
often  shut  myself  up  in  my  quiet  closet  and  offer  up  thanks 
to  the  Lord,  and  strive  to  bring  down  my  rebellious  heart  to 
the  one  exclusive  feeling  which,  as  you  always  said  so  truly, 
ought  to  be  the  essence  of  all  our  prayers  :  '  Lord,  Thy  will 
be  done  !'  But  the  flesh  is  weak  ! 

"You  know  that  it  has  ever  been  my  wish  and  prayer 
that  the  Almighty  might  make  me  one  of  His  instruments  for 
the  spreading  of  the  Gospel,  and  that  I  looked  upon  this  for 
myself  as  the  surest  road  to  salvation.  Now  I  thought,  when 
I  became  acquainted  with  Mr.  Fleming,  that  he  might  become 
my  guide  on  this  road  ;  I  believed  that  by  his  side,  and 
strengthened  by  his  godly  walk,  it  would  be  more  easy  for 
me  to  follow  the  thorny  path  through  Heathenism  ;  the  more 
as  my  vain  heart  flattered  itself  to  have  noticed  in  him  a 
certain  personal  preference  for  your  poor  friend.  And  you 
know  the  Lord  himself  has  taught  us  to  pray  :  '  Lead  us 
not  into  temptation  !'  Therefore,  if  the  Lord  opens  two 
equally  important  paths  of  duty  before  us,  we  should  not,  like 
Roman  Catholic  enthusiasts  and  Hindoo  fanatics,  impose 
upon  ourselves  needless  privations  and  mortifications,  in  the 
delusion  of  thereby  pleasing  Him  ;  but,  remembering  our 
weakness,  choose  the  easier  one. 

"This  seemed  also  to  be  Mr.  Fleming's  view;  but  he 
would  not,  of  course,  take  such  an  important  step  without 
the  advice  and  consent  of  the  brethren.  But  they  are  of 
opinion  that,  as  the  Lord  has  amply  blessed  him  as  well  as 


280  THE   EXILES. 

me  with  the  world's  goods,  it  would  be  better  to  devote 
these  to  His  cause  in  different  ways  ;  and  propose  that,  as  I 
havefclways  manifested  great  zeal  for  the  benighted  negro 
race,  I  should  rather  join  the  mission  which  is  soon  to  go 
to  Africa.  They  will  send  out  with  it  an  excellent  man,  a 
Mr.  Burton,  who  has  hitherto  laboured  among  the  Indians  : 
they  think  he  ought  not  to  go  without  a  companion,  who 
could  improve  and  extend  the  girls'  schools  which  have 
already  been  founded  there.  He  is  the  son  of  a  poor  widow 
in  Xew  Hampshire,  who,  like  Hannah  Samuel,  dedicated  her 
late-bom  child  to  the  Lord,  and  has  educated  him  in  the 
strictest  piety.  He  is  still  new  in  the  ways  of  the  world, 
and  has  not  that  Christian  grace  of  manner  which  contri- 
butes towards  making  Mr.  Fleming  an  ornament  of  the 
church  ;  for  even  our  bodily  qualities  may  be  sanctified  by 
the  breath  of  the  Lord. 

"  But  ought  this  to  influence  me  ?  God  forbid  !  On, 
Clotilde,  anxiously  do  I  watch  my  sinful,  rebellions  heart ! 
To  go  to"  Liberia  was  ever  my  wish,  my  intention  ;  and  now, 
should  a  carnal  affection  lead  me  to  India  ?  No,  my  dear 
Clotilde,  I  am  resolved  to  submit  to  the  decision  of  the 
saints,  whatever  it  may  be  ;  to  take  no  step  without  the 
advice  of  the  brethren  and  sisters.  I  hear  that  Mr.  Fleming 
is  striving  against  it  ;  that  at  a  late  meeting  he  spoke  beauti- 
fully about  '  conjugal  love1 ;  and  that  it  was  written  that 
'  Jacob  loved  Rachel '  before  he  married  her,  and  that  the 
Lord  had  given  man  a  heart  and  reason,  that  he  might  act 
for  himself,  and,  among  other  things,  choose  a  companion 
for  life  who  pleased  him,  and  that  two  instruments  could  both 
be  perfectly  attuned  and  used  for  the  praise  of  God  ;  but  if 
both  were  not  played  upon  in  the  same  key,  there  would,  never- 
theless, be  a  discord.  Excellent  man  !  He  is  as  wise  as  he 
is  good  f  He  spoke  from  my  own  heart  !  But  whatever 
my  lot  may  be,  I  will  submit  to  it,  and  serve  the  Lord 
wherever  He  may  lead  me  ! 


Two   MORE  LETTERS.  281 

"  As  soon  as  I  hear  from  Virginia,  dear  Clotilde,  I  shall 
write  yon  again. .  Perhaps  I  can  then  tell  yon,  too,  what 
course  God  has  pointed  out  to  me.  May  He  bless  yofrand 
yonr  husband,  and  lead  yon  both,  after  such  heavy  trials,  to 
His  kingdom  by  a  thornless  path  ! 

"  Your  very  affectionate 

"  SARAH  CASTLETOTT." 

The  promised  second  letter  arrived,  indeed,  only  after 
several  weeks,  and  did  not  find  Clotilde  any  longer  in  Harris- 
burg  ;  but  as  its  contents  follow  close  upon  those  of  the 
other,  we  will  insert  it  here,  in  order  to  avoid  interruption. 


SABA  H1 8     SECOND     LETTER. 

"  CHAKLESTOK,  May  — ,  18— * 
"  DEAREST  CLOTILDE, 

"  The  interval  between  this  letter  and  my  last  has  grown 
longer  than  I  had  hoped.  My  letter  to  you  was  hardly  sent, 
when  one  arrived  from  Mrs.  Tanner  in  Xew  Tork — the  same 
annt  whom  Virginia  was  going  to  visit — which  expressed 
great  surprise  that  two  letters  to  my  sister  had  been  directed 
to  her  care,  and  that  several  trunks,  belonging  to  the  latter, 
had  been  sent  to  her.  She  concluded  from  all  this,  she 
wrote,  that  her  dear  niece  intended  to  gratify  her  bv  a  visit; 
but  she  had  not  yet  arrived,  nor  had  she  heard  from  her  in 
any  way,  so  that  she  could  hardly  think  that  she  had  stopped 
at  the  house  of  any  other  friend  in  Xew  York. 

"  This  letter  threw  my  father  and  myself  into  no  slight 
consternation.  Father  went  immediately  to  the  captain  of 
the  'General  Houston1  — the  boat  with  which  Virginia 
sailed — and  heard  from  him,  to  his  utmost  astonishment, 
that  my  sister  had  suddenly  declared  that  she  had  changed 
her  mind,  that  she  would  not  go  directly  to  New  York,  but 
would  first  visit  a  friend  near  Hicksford,  and  therefore  pre- 


282  THE   EXILES. 

ferred  to  land  at  Cape  Henry,  where  the  steamboat  touched. 
Her  baggage,  which  had  been  directed  to  New  York,  had 
consequently  been  got  out  there.  He  (the  captain)  had  put 
her  in  charge  of  a  gentleman  from  Richmond,  who  had  also 
left  at  this  landing,  and  had  not  heard  from  her  since. 

"  This  could  not  enlighten  us.  We  knew  of  no  friend  of 
Virginia's  near  Hicksford  ;  but  it  was  possible  that  one  of 
her  many  New  York  acquaintances  might  have  moved  there 
without  her  having  mentioned  it  to  us.  But  why  had  she 
not  written  to  us  ?  My  father,  very  uneasy,  resolved  to  go 
immediately  to  Hicksford  with  the  Wilmington  boat.  He 
returned  in  great  concern  without  having  heard  from  her. 
The  name  of  the  Richmond  gentleman  the  captain  had  for- 
gotten. 

"At  this  junction  my  consternation  was  suddenly  in- 
creased by  a  new  letter  in  an  unknown  handwriting.  It 
was  from  a  French  milliner  in  Philadelphia,  named  Avalon, 
whom  we  have  known  here  formerly,  and  who  has  remained 
in  connection  particularly  with  Virginia,  who  was  very  kind 
to  her.  She  informed  me  that  Virginia  had  come  to  her 
house  some  weeks  before,  and  requested  her  to  give  her 
board  for  a  few  days,  as  she  had  some  business  in  town. 
That  as  she  was  alone,  she  did  not  wish  to  go  to  a  hotel ; 
but  that  she  wished  to  be  called  Miss  Browning  instead  of 
Miss  Castleton.  because  otherwise  some  one  of  her  acquaint- 
ance might  hear  of  her  being  in  town  and  call  upon  her, 
which  she  wished  to  avoid,  as  she  had  with  her  nothing  but 
the  most  necessary  travelling-wardrobe.  That  she  had  lived 
in  the  strictest  seclusion,  but  in  the  greatest  agitation,  had 
never  gone  out,  received  no  visitors,  and  only  once  a  letter. 
That  soon  after,  her  passionate  excitement  had  broken  out 
into  a  violent  fever  ;  she  had  acted  at  times  like  a  maniac, 
but  would  neither  suffer  her,  Madame  Avalon,  to  send  for  a 
physician,  nor  to  write  to  her  friends.  That  she  would  lie 
for  whole  days  upon  the  sofa,  gazing  before  her  in  dull, 


Two   MORE   LETTERS.  283 

terrible  apathy  ;  that  she  refused  to  take  nourishment,  and 
was,  altogether,  in  such  a  state,  the  good  woman  wrote,  that 
her  conscience  would  not  allow  her  to  keep  us  iu  ignorance 
any  longer  ;  that  she  would  rather  break  her  word  than 
perhaps  see  the  unhappy  young  lady  die  in  her  house. 

"  The  impression  which  this  letter  made  on  me,  you  can 
imagine.  A  dim  light  broke  in  upon  me.  With  what 
wicked  stubbornness  had  the  poor  girl  given  herself  up  to  a 
sinful,  adulterous  passion!  It  was  rrident  that  you  had  dis- 
closed to  her  that  you  had  found  Hubert  in  Berghedorf  ; 
she  had  fled  from  us  so  as  not  to  be  frustrated  in  her  un- 
christian plan  of  dying  of  disappointed  love.  This  was  the 
fruit  of  her  intimate  acquaintance  with  your  G-erman  poets, 
Clotilde,  against  whose  false,  delusive  doctrines  she  had  no 
Christianity  to  steel  her.  I  remember  distinctly  that  she 
called  Goethe,  who  defends  suicide  and  adultery,  the  greatest 
of  poets,  and  that  once,  when  we  had  been  reading  Cole- 
ridge's translation  of  Wallenstein,  she  called  me  trivial  and 
prosaic,  because  I  wondered  what  had  become  of  Thekla; 
that  we  only  lived  as  long  as  we  loved;  whether  any  one 
had  ever  thought  of  asking  what  became  of  the  nightingales 
when  they  ceased  to  sing!  And  more  of  the  like  nonsense, 
at  which  several  of  our  young  gentlemen,  who  were  present, 
actually  stared  at  her. 

"  We  of  course  started  immediately  for  Philadelphia.  My 
father  had  formed  the  idea  that  she  had  perhaps  left  town 
because  she  was  afraid  that  she  might  be  accused  of  having 
aided  Berghedorf  in  his  escape.  How  little  he  knows  her! 
Virginia  and  fear!  When  we  arrived,  she  could  not  be 
induced  to  see  us.  She  would  let  no  one  come  to  her  but 
Phyllis,  whom  we  had  summoned  from  New  York,  where  she 
had  been  sent  with  her  mistress'  trunks.  At  length  she 
consented  to  see  me.  Oh,  Clotilde,  how  she  was  changed! 
I  was  frightened  at  the  hidden  fire  in  her  eyes,  the  suppressed, 
restrained  anger,  which  disfigured  her  fair  features  to  an 


284  THE   EXILES. 

unnatural  degree.  I  could  never  induce  her  to  pray  with 
me.  But  now  she  would  not  even  let  me  pray  for  her.  '  Let 
that  be/  she  said,  with  a  bitterness  which  pained  me  deeply; 
'  I  do  not  deserve  the  intercession  of  saints.' 

"  Oh,  that  was  a  sad  time!  My  heart  was  so  heavy  too 
about  other  things,  of  which  I  will  tell  you  by-and-by.  But 
how  wrong  would  it  be  to  complain!  Our  kind  Creator  has 
loaded  us  with  countless  blessings.  Our  hardened  hearts  do 
not  see  them,  do  not  feel  them  ;  we  are  only  sensible  of 
the  small  afflictions  of  this  earthly  life,  which  are  sweets,  if 
we  compare  them  to  the  sufferings  of  our  Redeemer,  who 
died  for  our  sins  upon  the  cross,  amid  the  torturings  of  his 
enemies.  And  how  soon  will  we  throw  them  off,  together 
with  our  miserable  bodies,  to  sing  praises  to  Him  with  His 
angels  in  realms  of  eternal  bliss.  Life  is  but  a  span,  dear 
friend.  Why  then  do  we  grieve,  sinful,  ungrateful  creatures 
that  we  are!  Let  us  pass  through  it  joyfully,  and  praising 
the  Lord,  until  the  mansions  of  the  righteous  are  opened 
unto  us  ! 

"  It  was  only  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  I  could 
persuade  Virginia  to  return  home  with  us;  to  an  interview 
with  father  she  only  consented  on  condition  that  he  would 
not  only  not  reproach  her,  but  ask  her  no  questions.  And 
he  promised.  Oh,  my  dear  Clotilde,  you  never  would  allow 
that  the  natural  affections  of  man  were  sinful.  Is  such  love 
in  a  parent  not  sinful ! 

"  Since  we  have  been  at  home,  Virginia  has  been  very 
gloomy,  and  easily  roused  to  anger;  but  nevertheless,  she  has 
returned,  by  degrees,  to  her  old  habits.  She  manifests  some 
impatience  to  see  Alonzo  again.  It  seems  almost  as  if  there 
were  something  in  her  heart  which  she  wished  to  communicate 
to  him.  May  it  contribute  to  his  happiness.  Towards  you 
she  seems  highly  incensed,  and  cannot  even  hear  your  name. 
I  know  you  will  pardon  her  for  this;  for  as  long  as  she  has 
not  conquered  this  sinful  passion,  and  suffered  the  Lord 


Two   MORE   LETTERS.  285 

Jesus  to  take  its  place  in  her  heart,  we  cannot  expect  any- 
thing else. 

"  Now  I  will  tell  you  something  about  my  own  affairs.  I 
have  to  inform  you  that  this  is  a  farewell  letter,  and  that  in 
a  week  I  shall  marry  Mr.  Burton,  and  sail  with  him  the  same 
or  perhaps  the  following  day  for  Liberia.  Thus  the  matter 
has  been  decided.  He  is  a  faithful  servant  of.  the  Saviour, 
whom  he  loves  above  everything  else,  and  this  love,  which  is 
the  highest,  unites  our  hearts.  God  has  so  ordained  it. 
Perhaps,  in  sinful  weakness,  I  would  have  forgotten  the 
Creator  for  the  creature,  perhaps  I  would  thanklessly  have 
enjoyed  the  gift  more  for  its  own  sake  than  for  that  of  the 
Giver,  if  I  had  become  the  wife  of  the  man  whom  I  would 
have  preferred  before  all  others.  The  Lord  our  God  is  a  jealous 
God.  Perhaps  I  would  have  been  too  happy  here  on  earth, 
and  lost  sight  of  the  great  truth  that  this  life  is  only  a 
school  for  the  next.  Oh!  the  Lord  chasteneth  whom  He 
loveth!  The  deep  sadness  which  fills  my  whole  being,  proves 
to  me  plainly  how  much  of  self-will  is  still  in  my  heart,  which 
I  had  deemed  humble  and  resigned. 

"Mr.  Fleming,  excellent  man,  has  not  been  able  to  con- 
vince the  brethren.  He  took  leave  of  me,  and  spoke,  on 
this  occasion,  for  the  first  time  of  his — love.  How  deeply  I 
myself  had  suffered  in  the  matter,  he  did  not  seem  to  imagine. 
'  Perhaps,'  he  said,  with  a  voice  which  shook  my  heart,  '  our 
brethren  have  chosen  the  better  part  for  us;  perhaps  your 
health,  too,  would  break  down  under  the  climate  of  which 
my  Harriet  and  my  little  ones  became  in  so  short  time  the 
victims.  The  wounds  with  which  my  heart  is  covered  are 
still  bleeding.  You  had  already  before  decided  for  Liberia. 
If,  now,  I  had  induced  you  to  go  with  me  to  India,  and  the 
Lord  had,  before  long,  called  you  to  Him,  I  should  have 
been  forced  to  look  upon  your  life  as  sacrificed  for  me,  not 
for  Him.  And  could  I  have  endured  that  ?  No,  I  will 
rather  choose  a  companion  to  whom  I  am  bound  by  mere 


286  THE   EXILES. 

esteem  and  friendship,  who  knows  the  country,  and  is  already 
guarded  against  its  dangers.'  He  is  going  to  marry  the 
widow  of  one  of  his  brother-missionaries,  an  elderly,  but 
very  lovely  and  pious  woman,  whose  •  daughter  is  already  a 
fellow-labourer  in  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord. 

"  I  pressed  his  hand,  and  implored  the  Saviour's  blessing 
for  him.  But  I  did  not  tell  him  that  I  would  far  more 
willingly,  after  a  short  season  of  love  and  activity  by  his 
side,  enter  into  the  mansions  of  eternal  happiness,  than  pass 
through  the  long,  weary  struggles  of  this  life,  led  by  the 
hand  of  another.  But  the  Lord's  will  be  done ! 

"Pray  for  me;  I  will  pray  for  you!  I  wish  I  could  see 
you  once  more  before  I  go,  dearest  Clotilde!  I  would  like 
to  witness  your  domestic  happiness,  and  hear  you  praise  God 
for  having  made  you  happy  with  the  man  of  your  choice! 
But  it  cannot  be.  Once  more,  His  will  be  done! 

"  May  He,  whose  decrees  are  inscrutable,  ever  keep  you 
in  His  almighty  protection,  and  may  we,  at  some  future  time, 
meet  again  at  His  right  hand. 

"With  the  warmest  love  of  your  friend, 

"  SARAH  CASTLETON." 

"  Poor,  poor  Sarah !"  said  Clotilde,  with  deep  emotion, 
when  she  had  read  this  letter.  "Must  this  poor  creature 
thus  fall  a  victim  to  a  false  submission  to  the  church  ?  How 
I  pity  this  pure,  pious  heart,  which,  in  the  delusion  of 
thereby  pleasing  God,  mistrusts  its  own  most  noble  and  most 
natural  emotions  !" 

Hubert  had  read  the  letter  with  quite  different  sensations. 
He  disliked  the  way  in  which  the  pious  see  such  a  sharp  con- 
trast between  God  and  the  world,  which  is  only  an  emanation 
from  God,  and  believe  that  the  Ruler  of  the  Universe  has 
laid  snares  for  the  human  race  in  their  own  senses  and  natural 
affections. 

"  It  is  not  Sarah  who  is  to  be  pitied  !"  he  said.     "  You 


Two   MORE   LETTERS.  287 

need  not  grieve  for  her  who,  though  on  a  gloomy  and  joyless 
voyage,  has  such  a  sure  rudder  to  guide  her  straitway  to  the 
haven.  The  pious,  as  they  are  called,  cannot  in  reality  be 
unhappy  as  long  as  they  have  nothing  to  repent  of  personally; 
as  long  as  they  have  not,  besides  their  original  sin,  from 
which  they  have  been  redeemed,  any  private  sin  on  their 
conscience.  Their  interest  in  the  happiness  and  unhappiness 
of  others,  even  though  it  be  always  alive  and  active,  is  never 
deep  enough  to  destroy  the  happiness  of  their  own  soul  ;  for, 
as  you  have  heard  herself,  the  fear  of  forgetting  the  Creator 
for  the  creature,  keeps  in  bounds,  and  finally  undermines, 
every  more  powerful  feeling.  And  to  sink  down  under  their 
own  misfortune,  'would  be  still  more  sinful,  for  this  misfortune 
is  to  them  the  surest  sign  that  the  Lord  loves  them." 

Clotilde  smiled.  "  As  a  general  thing,"  she  said,  "  you 
may  not  be  wrong,  although  I  am  of  opinion  that  the  mode- 
ration and  reserve  of  manner  which  they  hold  to  be  becoming 
to  the  Christian,  often  veils  their  feelings  more  than  it  ex- 
poses them.  This  is  certainly  the  case  with  Sarah.  But 
you  may  be  right — you  see,  dearest,  I  divine  your  thoughts — 
in  thinking  "Virginia  more  to  be  pitied;  she,  spoiled  creature, 
whom  nature  itself  seemed  to  have  formed  only  for  happiness, 
for  enjoyment,  now  frets  away  her  young  life  in  bitter  hatred. 
She  wants  the  consolations  of  religion.  Nothing  but  an 
affliction  which  moved  her  deeply,  without  humbling  her 
pride,  would  have  the  power  of  leading  her  to  God.  Sarah 
does  not  understand  her,  and  irritates  her  more  than  com- 
forts her  by  her  sympathy.  If  I  thought  that  the  depth  of 
her  passion  equalled  its  violence,  I  would  find  it  difficult  to 
set  my  mind  at  ease  about  her." 

A  heavy  sigh  answered  her.     Both  were  silent. 


288  THE   EXILES. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE      HAVEN. 

IT  is  a  beautiful  portion  of  New  England,  through  which 
stretches  the  long,  wavy,  emerald  ridge  of  the  Green 
Mountains.  Towards  the  south,  where  this  ridge  gradually 
falls  off  and  loses  itself  into  single  scattered  elevations,  it  is 
already  two  hundred  years  since  cultivation,  wedded  to  a 
cheerful,  fair-featured,  though  coy  nature,  has  begotten  a 
tract  of  land,  which,  blooming,  opulent,  vigorous,  but  un- 
romantic,  and  strewn  over  with  towns  and  villages,  har- 
monizes perfectly  with  the  worthy,  restlessly  progressing  race 
of  its  inhabitants. 

But  in  the  northern  part,  where  the  ridge  declines  east- 
ward, in  manifold  ramifications,  to  the  narrow  Connecticut 
valley,  or  falls  off,  in  sublime  formations,  to  the  first  links  of 
the  remarkable  ocean-chain  of  the  "West,  there  a  picturesque 
forest  region  is  still  reposing  in  its  half-explored,  mysterious 
wildness.  Through  the  night  of  the  leafy  thicket,  there 
comes  a  rushing,  and  whispering,  and  sparkling  of  little 
winding,  splashing,  foaming  brooks,  and  through  the  mys- 
terious darkness  glisten  quiet,  silvery,  soft-breathing  lakes. 
Many  a  one  of  those  mountain-streams,  whose  breadth  and 
body  of  water  would  have  ensured  to  it,  in  an  old  country, 
no  small  fame  and  importance,  has  here  perhaps  for  a 
thousand  years  namelessly  gushed  away  its  life,  known,  at 
the  most,  to  the  children  of  the  neighbouring  villages,  whom 
the  pretty  tattler  has  many  a  time  enticed  from  the  long 


THE   HAVEN.  289 

way  which  leads  through  the  wood  to  school.  And  many  a 
clear,  beautiful,  watery  mirror  may  have  smiled  from  its  dark 
green  frame  of  foliage  through  countless  generations,  without 
having  once  reflected  a  human  face.  What  a  fount  of  poetry, 
mysterious,  and  not  yet  understood,  does  this  highly-gifted 
land  still  carry  hidden  in  the  depths  of  its  bosom! 

But  even  the  portions  which  the  foot  of  man  has  levelled, 
and  human  art  and  industry  have  made  inhabitable,  have 
still  their  poetic  atmosphere,  and  will  long  have  it,  even 
though  many  a  lovely  valley  should  yet  be  filled  up  with 
ugly,  brick  factory-buildings,  which,  with  such  dry,  red, 
barrack-like  faces,  look  out  upon  the  rich,  fresh  scenery 
with  their  hundreds  of  hollow  eyes  ;  even  though  many  a 
silvery  cascade  should  be  destroyed  by  their  restless  wheels, 
many  a  rushing  mountain-stream  be  dried  and  steamed  away 
in  their  boilers.  Mother  Xature  has  endowed  this  youth- 
fully vigorous  land  with  such  lavish  abundance,  that  for 
innumerable  generations  it  will  still  have  ample  supply  for 
nourishing  the  insatiable  Yankee  spirit  of  utility,  without 
becoming  impoverished  itself. 

The  wildly  romantic  spirit,  indeed,  which  may  at  one 
time  have  breathed  from  the  unbroken  whole  of  the  nature 
of  Xew  England  and  this  part  of  New  York,  has  long  been 
tamed  by  the  hand  of  civilization,  which,  with  untiring 
industry,  has  cleared  its  forests,  sprinkled  hill  and  valley,  far 
and  near,  with  neat,  pretty  dwellings,  with  bright-windowed 
churches,  and  little  schoolhouses  standing  in  sober  soKtude, 
and  covered  its  boundless  pastures  with  fat  cattle  and  poultry. 
What  the  spirit  of  poetry  has  lost  in  fantastic  charms,  it 
has  gained  in  idyllic,  easy  contentment.  Here  and  there, 
however,  and  often  not  very  far  from  a  nourishing,  busy 
town,  this  spirit,  in  all  its  old,  primitive,  eccentric  wildness, 
has  found  a  refuge  in  a  woody  ravine,  and  there  rules  with  as 
unlimited  a  sway  as  if  the  seventeenth  century  had  only  just 
reached  its  middle,  as  if  the  white-  man  were  still  engaged  in 
13 


290  THE   EXILES. 

bloody  struggles  with  the  red  man  for  his  hunting-grounds, 
for  an  abiding-place  for  himself  and  his  loved  ones,  for  a 
temple  for  Jehovah,  the  God  of  Israel. 

It  was  on  such  a  spot,  that,  one  generation  before,  an 
influential  Bostonian  had  settled.  He  had  been  repeatedly 
disappointed  in  his  business  speculations  as  well  as  in  his 
p-  iitical  ambition,  and  hoped,  in  giving  up  the  world,  to 
find  here,  in  perfect  solitude,  that  peace  which  no  outer 
circumstances  can  give.  But  none  of  his  sons  had  been 
willing  to  begin  life  where  their  father  had  ended  it ;  they 
went  farther  and  farther  to  the  West,  and  the  unprofitable 
possession,  which  consisted  only  of  a  few  acres  of  rocky  soil, 
and  the  ownership  of  which,  from  its  retired  situation,  and 
difficulty  of  access,  was  hardly  desirable  for  one  who  still 
lived  with  the  world,  went  through  the  hands  of -several 
purchasers,  falling  in  price  considerably  at  every  new  change, 
until  at  length  it  was  bought,  for  a  small  sum,  by  the  owner 
whom  we  find  there,  and  with  whom  we  recommence  our 
tale. 

The  house,  built  of  wood,  but  in  a  better  style  than  is 
usual  in  Vermont,  lay  upon  an  elevation,  which  rose  gently 
from  the  road  leading  to  the  nearest  village,  while  at  about 
a  thousand  feet  in  the  rear  of  the  house,  it  declined  abruptly, 
forming  one  wall  of  a  narrow,  rocky  ravine,  through  which, 
thickly  lined  with  woods  as  it  was,  a  foaming,  wildly-roaring 
mountain-torrent  rushed  along.  About  half  a  mile  from  the 
house,  a  lane  turned  off  from  the  main  road,  into  the  midst 
of  thick  wood  and  bushes.  It  had  been  made  by  the  first 
owner,  and,  during  his  lifetime,  kept  in  good  repair,  but  now 
it  resembled  a  mere  woodpath,  and  was  accessible  only  to  the 
little  one-horse  vehicles  of  the  country.  It  wound  through 
the  wood,  up  the  hill,  and  stopped  at  the  fence  which 
surrounded  the  house.  The  latter,  too,  was  considerably  out 
of  repair,  but  the  fact  of  its  perhaps  needing  a  new  dress  of 
paint,  was  concealed  by  the  thick  green  vine  which  wound  up 


THE    HAVEN.  291 

the  pillars  of  the  broad  veranda,  and  luxuriantly  covered 
the  roof  and  walls. 

The  stable,  barns,  and  other  outhouses  which  lay  near  the 
house,  showed  the  hand  of  time  more  plainly.  Behind  the 
latter,  the  little  plateau  extended,  smooth  and  green  as  a 
meadow,  to  the  declivity.  The  fence  of  the  court-yard  ran, 
on  both  sides,  only  to  this  declivity,  on  the  top  of  which 
Nature  herself  had  drawn  a  hedge  of  thick  brushwood. 
Through  the  midst  of  this  the  first  owner  had  cut  an  open- 
ing like  a  door,  and  a  winding  path,  alternating  with  steps 
roughly  hewn  in  the  rock,  led  down  into  the  ravine,  to  the 
enticing,  melodiously-gushing  music  of  the  wild  stream, 
which,  restless  and  stumbling,  rushed  along  over  sharp 
stones  and  gravel,  forming,  in  its  headlong  course,  a  count- 
less number  of  charming  little  cascades  and  merry  whirls. 

It  had  cost  the  present  owner  many  a  day's  labour  to 
clear  the  wildly  overgrown  path  again,  and  make  it  passable 
for  tender  feet.  But  he  was  not  satisfied  with  this.  He 
had  begun  to  make  a  little  path  in  the  valley,  along  the 
brook,  and  intended  to  lead  it  to  the  distant  fall,  where  the 
water,  after  quietly  winding  through  miles  of  flat  country, 
and  finally,  as  if  bewildered,  losing  itself  in  the  thick, 
uncleared  wood,  suddenly  came  tumbling,  with  loud  din, 
down  several  hundred  feet  into  the  bed  of  the  ravine,  to 
work  its  way  on  from  there  over  its  rorky  course,  with 
noise  and  groans.  On  many  a  quiet  night,  when  thf  south 
wind  I  ore  the  music  to  their  ear,  the  roar  of  the  distant 
waterfall  had  su;ig  him  and  his  wife  to  sleep,  and  wakened 
in  them  a  longing  to  look  upon  the  mysterious  wanderer  in 
his  dizzy  fall.  No  eye  of  the  present  generation  seemed 
ever  to  have  beheld  it,  no  foot  ever  to  have  trodden  the 
spot;  no  map  marked  the  p'a'-e,  no  topograyihical  description 
mentioned  it.  Only  a  dark,  Indian  legend,  of  wuked, 
bloody  deeds  once  perpetrated  in  that  wilderness,  attached 
the  name  of  Mattalugas,  "  place  of  crime,"  to  this  spot. 


292  THE   EXILES. 

Only  half-a-century  before,  a  miserable,  degraded  rem- 
nant of  a  Mohegan  race  had  dwelt  in  yonder  wood,  in  filthy 
wigwams.  The  grandmothers  of  the  neighbouring  villages 
remembered  to  have  seen  emerging  from  there,  from  time  to 
time,  dark,  hardly  distinguishable  male  and  female  forms, 
with  long,  loose  hair,  and  wild  eyes,  who  came  to  their  doors 
to  offer  gay  willow  baskets,  and  wooden  spoons,  and  twirl- 
ing-sticks  for  sale,  with  gestures,  and  broken,  unintelligible 
sounds.  Sometimes,  too,  a  child  would  come,  with  berries 
which  it  had  gathered,  a  filthy,  puny  creature,  with  stupid 
mien,  which  greedily  devoured  the  piece  of  bread  and  cheese 
that  the  good  woman  of  the  house  kindly  offered  it,  but 
would  answer  no  questions,  and  ran  away  with  the  agility  of 
an  animal,  as  soon  as  the  white  children  approached  it.  At 
that  time  smoke  was  often  seen  rising  up  from  the  forest, 
and  if  the  wind  came  from  there,  the  inhabitants  of  the 
next  village  would  hear  at  times  a  dull  sound  of  howls  and 
cries  of  woe,  which  reminded  them  of  death,  they  knew  not 
why.  More  and  more  rarely  they  came  forth,  fewer  and 
fewer  at  a  time,  at  length  none  came.  They  were  all  dead. 
The  forest  lay  there  in  unbroken  silence;  only  the  croaking 
of  ravens  sounded  out  from  it,  and,  in  melodious  monotony, 
the  melancholy  lay  of  the  hidden  waterfall.  What  a  deep 
charm  was  there  in  this  mystery!  And  still  more  in  the 
attempt  to  unveil  it  ! 

But  while  the  young  man,  armed  with  a  spade  and  axe, 
was  busy  in  the  ravine,  the  wife,  at  home,  was  not  idle  either. 
In  the  evening,  when  the  setting  sun  threw  its  long  shadows 
across  the  brilliant  green,  and  the  fresh  fragrance  of  the 
grass  floated  upon  the  air,  the  meadow  behind  the  house  was 
particularly  lovely.  There  was  also  a  veranda,  or,  as  it  is 
called  in  America,  by  the  Spanish  name,  a  piazza,  built  out 
at  the  back  of  the  house.  Here  a  young  woman  in  a  plain, 
dark  calico  dress,  with  a  large  white  sunbonnet  on  her  head, 
was  busied  in  setting  a  small  table.  She  had  just  returned 


THE   HAVEN.  293 

from  the  wood,  where,  in  a  little  basket,  she  had  gathered 
sweet  berries,  which  grew  there  in  abundance.  After  having 
carefully  washed  them  at  the  well,  she  now  placed  them  on 
the  table  in  a  glass  dish.  A  negro  boy — the  sole  domestic 
of  the  house,  who  attended  to  the  horse  and  cow,  heated 
the  oven,  fetched  water  from  the  well,  and  assisted  here 
and  there,  in  various  things — just  came  up  with  a  pitcher  of 
new  milk  for  supper.  The  young  woman  arranged  the  dishes 
in  the  most  graceful  manner.  Everything  was  simple,  but 
everything  also  showed  taste  and  comfort.  The  fresh,  home- 
made butter  looked  very  inviting:  only  the  bread  she  looked 
at  with  a  gentle  sigh.  She  could  not  succeed  well  in  baking. 
She  wanted  a  strong  hand,  accustomed  to  labour.  "  Time," 
she  thought,  "will,  I  hope,  give  me  more  skill  in  this,  too; 
it  is  a  thousand  times  better,  at  least,  to  try  it  a  few  months 
longer,  than  again  to  cast  myself  into  the  purgatory  of  being 
served  by  a  New-England  girl,  who  wants  to  be  my  com- 
panion, when  I  have  hired  her  to  work  for  me."  True,  in 
the  few  weeks  since  which  she  had  undertaken  to  cook  and 
bake  herself,  her  hands  had  already  grown  rough  and  hard 
enough,  and  her  tender  forehead  was  blistered  in  several 
places  with  the  heat.  But  that  could  easily  be  borne.  For 
she  knew  that  her  husband  loved  a  higher  beauty  in  her,  than 
that  which  a  kitchen-fire  will  destroy. 

Now  everything  was  ready,  and  Clotilde — for  the  reader 
has  long  since  guessed  that  it  was  she — stepped  out  upon  the 
meadow,  and,  with  great  satisfaction,  looked  around  upon 
her  possession,  which  seemed  only  to  be  bounded  by  the  high, 
dark-blue  mountain-ridge  that  rose,  at  some  distance,  above 
the  opposite  wall  of  the  ravine.  Sundry  smaller  ridges,  of 
the  most  beautiful  shades,  from  a  brilliant  light  green  to  the 
richest  ultra-marine,  rose  up  between,  in  steps,  like  an  amphi- 
theatre. It  was  a  glorious  sight. 

But  her  eye  ever  returned  longingly  to  the  opening  which 
led  into  the  valley.  At  length  Hubert  appeared  in  it,  with 


294  THE   EXILES. 

a  huge  straw  hat  upon  his  head,  and  spade  and  axe  across 
his  shoulder,  his  day's  work  ended.  How  joyful  was  the 
greeting  between  these  two  loving  ones,  who  were  everything, 
all  in  all  to  each  other.  How  cheerfully  did  they  partake  of 
their  small,  frugal  meal,  while  love,  the  most  fervent,  self- 
resigning  love,  was  the  spice  of  their  enjoyment,  the  soul  of 
their  conversation  ! 

But  a  few  months  had  passed  since  they  had  entered  this 
haven,  and  even  here  a  considerable  length  of  time  had  to  be 
spent  in  difficult,  troublesome  business-matters,  in  trivial 
affairs,  called  for  by  the  claims  and  wants  of  the  day,  before 
they  could  glide  quietly  over  the  gentle  waves  of  a  cheerful, 
comfortable,  domestic  life.  The  band  of  civilization  smoothes 
the  path  over  the  beginning  of  a  household  ;  but  he  who 
enters,  with  the  claims  which  the  refinements  of  cultivation 
thrust  upon  their  pupils,  upon  a  region  which  is  still  half- 
civilized,  or  even  only  thinly  peopled,  and  primitive  in  its 
social  character,  and  would  erect  there  his  own  fireside, 
will  only  then  come  to  a  full  consciousness  of  the  advantages 
afforded  by  a  perfectly  developed  state  of  society,  where,  as 
it  were,  one  individual  supplies  the  deficiencies  of  another, 
and  every  one  only  forms  a  part  of  the  whole.  In  our 
lovers,  time  had  somewhat  blunted  the  outer  edges  of  this 
consciousness;  and  the  experiences  which  they  had  met  with 
even  after  their  reunion,  before  they  arrived  at  this  haven, 
had  enriched  them  with  a  knowledge  of  the  country  and 
people,  which  was  to  be  of  great  benefit  to  them  in  the 
home  so  long  striven  for,  and  now  finally  attained. 

We  left  the  young  couple  at  a  boarding-house  in  Harris- 
burg.  Hubert  and  Clotilde  had  agreed  to  remain  there, 
until  their  minds  had  become  somewhat  calm,  and  they 
would  be  able  to  form  some  plan  for  the  future.  The  life 
which  they  led  here,  was  new  to  them.  The  different  board- 
ers in  the  establishment,  mostly  young  married  couples, 
assembled  three  times  a  day  for  their  meals,  in  the  lower 


THE   HAVEN.  295 

apartments  of  the  house.  At  eight  o'clock,  the  breakfast- 
table  stood  in  readiness,  richly  laden  with  a  variety  of  meats 
and  other  substantial  dishes.  From  there  the  young  hus- 
bacds  hastened  to  their  offices  or  other  places  of  business; 
•the  young  wives  perhaps  remained  assembled  a  while  longer 
in  the  adjoining  parlour,  talking  over  the  news  of  the  pre- 
ceding day,  or  quieting  the  children — for  some  had  already 
families — who  were  impatiently  waiting  for  their  breakfast, 
which  they  took  with  the  nurses  at  a  second  table.  The 
ladies  then  went  to  their  rooms — mostly  only  bed-rooms; 
for  it  requires  a  good  income  to  be  able  to  afford  a  private 
parlour  besides  the  public  drawing-room.  Here  various  little 
matters  were  attended  to,  until  it  was  time  to  dress  for 
receiving  calls,  or  going  out  to  make  them,  or  to  shop. 
Dinner,  and  later,  tea,  which  was  at  the  same  time  the 
supper,  brought  home  the  gentlemen  ;  the  intervening  time 
was  spent  much  in  the  same  way  as  the  morning.  Where 
there  were  children,  there  was  always  much  mending  and 
sewing  to  do,  and  those  who  had  literary  or  musical  tastes, 
found  ample  time  for  cultivating  them.  Household  duties, 
as  they  are  called,  the  fair  boarders  had  none.  The  house 
was  kept,  the  table  spread  for  them,  and  their  husbands 
paid  the  bill.  As  is  well  known,  the  greater  number  of 
young  couples  begin  their  marriage  by  "boarding,"  or  if  the 
parents  of  one  of  the  parties  are  wealthy,  the  young  people 
remain  with  them,  without  having  more  than  a  bed-room  for 
their  own  use. 

In  this  manner  the  first  year  passes,  sometimes  even  the 
first  four  or  five  years.  The  first  child  calls  forth  general 
delight ;  the  second  causes  some  uncomfortable  feelings  on 
all  sides,  particularly  with  the  young  parents  ;  if  the  number 
increases,  they  long  for  a  household  of  their  own.  But 
there  are  many  children  who  grow  up  to  be  men  and  women 
in  boarding-houses,  and  older  couples  too,  whose  sons  are  all 
settled  for  themselves,  and  whose  married  daughters  have 


296  THE   EXILES. 

left  their  house  desolate,  often  go  to  and  their  days  at  a 
boarding-house,  as  the  cheapest  and  least  troublesome  mode 
of  life.  This  custom  extends  over  every  part  of  the  country, 
north  and  south,  in  city  and  country.  Even  in  the  wilder- 
nesses of  the  West  there  are  log-houses  where  boarders  are' 
taken,  for  the  accommodation  of  settlers. 

To  German  ideas  this  custom  is  repugnant,  and  I  doubt 
if  many  young  American  husbands  care  for  it  otherwise  than 
as  an  endurable  expedient,  even  though  they  do  not  feel  the 
full  sense  of  the  German  proverb:  "An  own  hearth  great 
price  is  worth."  What  can  be  compared  to  the  joyful  sensa- 
tions of  a  newly-married  couple  who  take  possession  of  a 
household  ?  Be  it  ever  so  small,  it  is  their  own ;  the  young 
man  feels  for  the  first  time  his  importance  as  the  head  of  a 
house  ;  his  young  bride,  as  a  housewife,  commands  for  the 
first  time,  besides  his  love,  his  veneration.  A  charm,  a 
fragrance,  a  kind  of  sanctity,  hangs  about  this  temple. 
True,  married  people  delight  in  the  beginning  of  a  household 
in  later  years  too,  but  the  poetry  of  the  enterprise  has  fled. 
They  are  already  too  familiar  with  the  troubles  which 
matrimony  brings,  hand-in-hand  with  its  advantages,  to 
begin  their  common  journey  with  hopes  as  sanguine  as  if 
they  had  stood  at  the  altar  only  yesterday,  or  as  if  only 
a-  wedding-tour  lay  between  now  and  that  important  mo- 
ment. The  tardiness  of  the  workmen,  the  dearness  of 
provisions,  the  trouble  with  servants — all  the  black  clouds  in 
the  sky  of  an  own  household,  while  for  a  newly-married 
couple  the  young  sun  of  hope  easily  scatters  them,  will 
frequently  threaten  to  empty  themselves  over  the  heads  of 
those  who  enter  upon  the  duties  of  housekeeping  later,  and 
the  wife,  at  least,  will  often  sigh  in  secret  for  the  quiet  and 
freedom  from  care  of  a  boarding-house. 

Our  lovers,  on  the  contrary,  were  still  sighing  for  a  house- 
hold, and  turned  their  eyes  in  every  direction  from  where 
one  might  offer  itself  to  them.  On  the  other  hand  they 


THE   HAVEN.  297 

could  not  overlook  the  advantages  which  the  custom  of 
boarding  affords  to  young  persons.  Many  a  rose,  whose 
fragrance  might  have  beneficially  perfumed  a  domestic 
sphere,  withers  on  th«  bush,  and  falls  at  last  to  the  ground, 
stripped  of  its  leaves  ;  the  warm  heart  of  many  a  maiden, 
made  to  bestow  love  and  happiness,  wears  itself  out  and 
fritters  itself  away,  merely  from  a  dim  longing  for  love 
and  activity,  in  uncalled-for  interest  in  other's  affairs,  and, 
through  forced  indolence  and  unavoidable  loneliness  of 
heart,  turns  into  an  insupportable  gossip.  Many  a  worthy 
young  man  is  saved  from  moral  destruction  by  the  sanc- 
tity of  early  domestic  ties. 

In  the  fresh  vital  relations  of  the  United  States,  we  find 
neither  the  long  row  of  so-called  "  old  maids"  which,  in  other 
countries  includes  only  too  often  the  best  and  the  noblest, 
nor  the  large  circle  of  bachelors,  young  and  old,  who  dry  up, 
by  degrees,  with  a  hotel  life  ;  or  who  receive,  as  family- 
friends,  only  a  small  measure  of  domestic  enjoyment.  Earn- 
ing a  living  is  an  easy  thing  in  this  country  ;  if  it  does  not 
succeed  in  one  place,  it  will  in  another.  But  a  far  more 
difficult  matter  .is  to  raise  the  capital,  be  it  ever  so  small, 
which  is  indispensably  necessary  for  the  arrangement  of  an 
own  household.  Young  couples  who  are  boarding,  can  easily, 
if  Fortune  does  not  smile  upon  them  in  the  East,  try  their  luck 
at  the  West.  They  are  not  encumbered  with  superfluous 
household-goods  and  furniture.  Their  steps  are  not  hindered 
by  chests  and  boxes  containing  the  trousseau  of  the  bride, 
the  quantity  and  solidity  of  which  seems  calculated  for  its 
being  used  by  their  children  and  children's  children.  How 
proud  had  poor  Henrietta  Stellman  been  of  the  four  dozen 
sets  of  bed-linen  and  the  ten  dozens  of  body-linen  which  made 
part  of  her  trousseau.  And  the  thirty-six  table  sets,  some 
with  twelve,  some  with  six,  two  even  with  twenty-four  care- 
fully numbered  napkins  !  One  damask  napkin  was  lost  in 
the  great  ':  bridal-wash;"  she  had  cried  over  it  more  than 
13* 


298  THE    EXILES. 

if  she  had  lost  a  diamond  ring,  only  because  now  the  dozen 
was  no  longer  full !  Poor  heart,  that  from  the  midst  of  its 
narrow  circle  of  inbred  trivialities,  was  hurled  with  such  hor- 
ror-awakening force  into  infinity! 

Such  treasures  hardly  aid  in  forming  even  the  richest 
American  household.  And  in  a  boarding-house,  the  mistress 
of  the  establishment,  of  course,  furnishes  bed  and  table-linen. 
Cotton  underclothes  are  cheap,  and  can  easily  be  renewed. 
They  wear  out  by  lying,  and  must  not  be  bought  in  larger 
quantities  than  are  just  necessary.  Other  articles  of  dress, 
if  calculated  to  last  beyond  the  current  season,  would  soon 
be  out  of  fashion.  A  jewel-box  of  the  bride  finds  room 
everywhere.  Until  the  young  couple  go  to  housekeeping, 
they  are,  in  a  measure,  on  a  travelling-footing.  A  few  trunks, 
pushed  under  the  bed,  include  their  whole  property. 

But  Hubert  and  Clotilde,  as  we  said  before,  had  far  too 
German  ideas,  not  to  long  for  a  home  and  their  own  fireside. 
The  question  was  only  where  to  build  it  up.  Clotilde,  re- 
membering Sassen's  advice,  was  very  much  in  favour  of  one 
of  the  Eastern  sea-ports,  or  at  least  for  their  vicinity.  She 
hoped  that  Hubert  would  find  there,  in  their  more  congenial 
elements,  a  more  stirring  and  exciting  life,  a  sphere  of  action. 

"  You  are  too  young,"  she  said,  "  to  rest  already.  He 
who  can  still  act,  influence,  and  be  useful,  ought  not  yet 
mentally  to  lay  his  hands  in  his  lap,  ought  not  to  put  his 
candle  under  a  bushel."  For  herself,  she  wished  to  cling  as 
much  as  possible  to  European  civilization,  the  want  of  which 
endangers  the  dignity  and  happiness  of  a  woman  much  more 
than  those  of  a  man.  A  pure  existence,  overflowing  with 
memories,  lay  behind  her.  She  wished  to  let  her  American 
life  be  only  a  continuation  of  her  European  life.  In  the  East 
they  could  command  a  direct  communication  with  Europe  ; 
there  books  and  works  of  art  were  close  at  hand,  as  improving 
means  of  cultivation.  There  alone  she  might  hope  to  find, 
by  degrees,  friends  living  in  similar  circumstances,  and  of 


THE   HAVEN.  299 

similar  views  and  opinions,  of  German  or  American  origin,  it 
mattered  little  which ;  in  short,  there  alone,  there  was  a  dim 
prospect  of  forming  a  household  which  might  resemble,  as 
much  as  possible,  a  European  one. 

Hubert,  on  the  other  hand,  was  powerfully  attracted  to 
the  far  West.  He  wished  to  commence  a  new  life  by  the 
side  of  Clotilde.  A  year's  intercourse  with  the  world,  indeed, 
had  crowded  into  the  background  the  ideal  dreams  of  his 
youth,  which  the  solitude  of  his  prison  had  nurtured  longer 
than  necessary.  He  had  learned  to  acknowledge  that,  in 
uncultivated  regions,  crude  power  must  necessarily  pre- 
dominate, that,  mentally  as  well  as  physically,  the  axe  must 
lead  the  way  for  the  plough,  the  hand  that  roots  up,  for  that 
which  scatters  the  seed.  He  had  learned  to  feel  that  the 
individual  can  only  gain  an  influence  as  the  member  of  a 
whole,  that  one  must  supply  the  other,  and,  in  a  certain 
sense  at  least,  one  must  join  with  the  other. 

He  too,  like  so  very  many  of  his  countrymen,  had  long 
harboured  the  idea  of  a  German  state  as  one  of  the  United 
States,  entirely,  or  at  least  chiefly,  peopled  by  Germans,  and 
enjoying,  while  retaining  German  manners,  language,  and 
mode  of  thinking,  all  advantages  of  the  liberty  and  inde- 
pendence of  the  Union.  And  there  is  certainly  no  absurdity 
in  this  thought,  and  the  German  population  which  is  spread 
and  scattered  over  the  United  States,  might,  if  it  were 
gathered  together,  form  a  powerful  state.  But,  of  the  thou- 
sands who  have  brought  this  fair  thought  across  the  ocean, 
not  one  has  yet  held  it  fast.  Here,  as  at  home,  unity  is 
destroyed  by  the  want  of  national  spirit  among  the  Germans. 
Here,  as  at  home,  they  would  rather,  divided  into  a  thousand 
fractions,  subject  themselves  to  the  stranger,  than  fit  the 
angles  and  corners  of  their  own  mind  into  those  of  their 
brethren,  and  thus  form  a  compact  whole.  Hubert  saw 
this  with  a  painful  feeling  of  deep  shame.  He  was,  in  the 
best  sense  of  the  word,  a  truly  German  character,  a  char- 


300  THE    EXILES. 

acter  which  is  possible  only  in  Germany,  and  as  such  he  was 
bound  by  every  fibre  of  his  spiritual  being  to  his  native  land. 
Exiled,  saddened  by  the  political  situation  of  his  beloved 
country,  though  not  despairing  of  it,  he  hardly  hoped,  in- 
deed, did  not  wish,  to  find  a  new  "  fatherland,"  but  only  a 
home  for  himself  and  his  wife,  who,  away  from  his  native 
land,  was  his  world. 

As  we  have  seen  above,  in  his  conversations  with  Clotilde, 
Hubert  judged  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  Americans  with 
freedom  and  clearness,  and  rather  favourably  than  otherwise. 
With  a  perfectly  objective  calmness,  and  without  allowing 
himself  to  be  disturbed  by  details,  he  recognised  the  develop- 
ment of  the  American  popular  character  as  entirely  adapted 
to  place  and  time,  without  therefore  finding  it  interesting 
in  its  individuality.  The  spirit  of  restless  activity,  of  un- 
tiring investigation,  which  manifests  itself  in  a  thousand 
ways  in  all  social  relations  ;  the  curious  elasticity  of  the 
American,  by  means  of  which,  without  denying  his  character, 
and  often  without  throwing  off  his  harsh,  dry  outer  garment, 
he  adapts  himself  to  the  most  heterogeneous  circumstances  ; 
the  infinite  national  self-conceit  and  self-love,  and  finally  the 
decided  want  of  depth,  with  all  sharpness  and  breadth — all 
this  struck  him  unpleasantly. 

The  political  questions  which  were  at  present  moving  the 
country,  seemed  to  him  not  important  enough  to  demand  his 
liveliest  interest.  The  nullification  question  had  been  laid 
aside,  and  against  all  the  others  the  rock  of  Freedom  and 
Union  stood  firm,  whether  the  Whigs  or  the  Loco-Focos  won 
the  victory. 

To  gain  an  influence  in  this  country  as  a  German,  he 
could  never  hope.  He  saw  many  a  one  of  his  countrymen  who 
was  esteemed  and  influential  ;  but  only  in  so  far  as  he  had 
ceased  to  be  a  Germa.n,  and  had  become  an  American.  But 
he  was  neither  willing  thus  to  surrender  his  individuality,  nor 
was  he,  indeed,  capable  of  doing  so. 


THE    HAVEN.  301 

The  thoroughly  ecclesiastical  element,  too,  from  which 
the  American  draws  the  breath  of  his  religious  life,  was 
repulsive  to  him.  The  American,  if  he  is  not  decidedly 
a  philosopher,  knows  no  other  religious  life  than  one  founded 
on  a  revelation,  be  it  a  true  one,  or  one  deemed  true.  In  a 
certain  sense  he  is  marvellously  tolerant.  He  is  interested 
in  the  Jews  ;  he  concedes  to  the  Mahometan  a  species  of 
true  piety.  He  exercises  tolerance  towards  a  countless 
number  of  Protestant  Christian  sects  ;  he  even — and  this  is 
the  most  difficult  point — forces  himself  to  toleration  towards 
the  Roman  Catholics.  But  the  deist,  though  he  be  the 
warmest  worshipper  of  God,  he  mistrusts.  Such  a  one  to 
him  is  a  pagan,  an  infidel.  Not  that  there  are  not  many 
thousands  of  Americans  who  do  not  believe  in  a  revelation. 
But  just  these  justify,  by  their  frivolity  and  vice,  the 
national  view.  It  seems  as  if,  in  this  atmosphere,  a  merely 
individual  religious  life  could  not  bloom,  as  if  piety  could 
bear  fruits  only  in  a  community. 

Hubert,  therefore,  without  resolving  upon  naturalizing 
himself  here,  where  he  felt  so  like  a  stranger  in  mental  and 
spiritual  respects,  still  kept  his  eye  firmly  fixed  upon  Ger- 
many, where,  with  his  sanguine  disposition,  he  held  a  final 
overthrow  to  be  unavoidable,  and  whither  he  hoped  to 
return,  at  some  future  time,  with  his  Clotilde.  Meanwhile 
he  desired  to  await  this  period  in  the  solitude  of  the  West, 
undisturbed  by  the  influences  of  society,  in  the  enjoyment  of 
a  fresh,  sublime  nature. 

The  wishes  of  his  beloved  wife,  however,  induced  him  not 
to  be  too  hasty  in  this  matter,  and  they  agreed,  before  they 
came  to  a  decision,  to  make  a  journey  to  the  Eastern  States, 
particularly  to  New  York,  partly  to  investigate  personally, 
in  a  direct  communication  with  the  commercial  world,  how 
much  of  Clotilde's  property  might  yet  be  saved  ;  partly,  too, 
in  the  hope  of  there  gaining  intelligence  of  the  Castleton 


302  THE   EXILES. 

family,  of  hearing  from  Alonzo,  from  Sarah — for  Clotildc, 
as  we  remarked  before,  received  Sarah's  letter  only  later — 
and  finally  of  obtaining  there  also  a  word  of  pardon  from 
the  unfortunate  Virginia. 


TRAVELLING -SCENES.  303 


CHAPTER   XX. 

TRAVELLING-SCENES. 

A  JOURNEY  in  spring  through  a  picturesque  country  can 
-^*-  be  compared  to  nothing  else  in  loveliness  and  poetry  ; 
but  everything  that  is  lovely  and  delightful  should  be  com- 
pared to  such  a  journey  made  by  a  young  husband  and  wife. 
The  balmy,  exhilarating  air,  the  young,  sprouting  grass  and 
foliage,  the  airy  veil  of  blossoms  which  covers  the  orchards 
by  the  wayside — all  these  awaken  a  sensual  contentment 
which  not  even  the  din  of  the  noisy  crowd,  not  even  the 
black  smoke-clouds  of  the  locomotive,  nor  the  ear-rending 
railroad  whistle,  can  deaden. 

In  a  few  days  our  travellers  were  in  New  York.  When 
they  left  the  cars  in  Jersey  City,  and  were  crossing  the 
Hudson,  Clotilde,  who  enjoyed  this  sight  for  the  first  time, 
was  nearly  overwhelmed  by  its  wondrous  beauty  and  gran- 
deur ;  to  the  left,  the  view  up  the  glorious  river,  into  the 
flourishing  land  of  the  Future  ;  on  the  right,  the  ever-lively 
harbour,  with  its  immeasurable  forest  of  masts,  and  the  broad 
ocean-road  to  her  beloved  Europe. 

From  the  windows  of  the  palatial  Astor  House,  then 
only  just  finished,  she  looked  down  upon  the  crowd 
which,  on  wheels,  on  horseback,  and  on  foot,  swerved  rest- 
lessly to  and  fro  below  her.  For  this  is  just  the  spot  on 
which  the  business-world  merges  into  that  of  society  and 
enjoyment.  At  this  point,  particularly,  the  city  of  hardly 
two  hundred  years  appears  immense  in  business-intercourse 


304  THE    EXILES.       , 

as  well  as  in  splendour,  yielding  the  palm  to  no  other 
metropolis  in  number  and  variety  of  population.  The 
great  mass  of  the  wealthier  business-men  have,  indeed,  no 
time  to  walk.  Countless  omnibusses,  filled  with  them,  or 
other  passengers,  according  to  the  time  of  day,  rattle  up  and 
down  Broadway.  But  after  noon,  until  the  dinner  hour,  the 
number  of  females  who  walk  to  and  fro  on  the  broad  side- 
walk is  disproportionately  large.  Their  object  is  to  look  at 
and  purchase  goods,  and  particularly — to  make  calls. 

Among  the  elegant  and  graceful  women,  clad  in  silk  and 
velvet,  many  a  wild-looking,  bandit-like  fellow  saunters  along, 
fresh  from  "  Erin's  green  isle."  Among  the  native  Ameri- 
cans, too,  there  are  enough  of  wild  fellows,  who  look  as  bold 
and  insolent  as  these,  if  not  more  so.  But  what  distin- 
guishes them  plainly  from  the  former,  is  their  dress  ;  that 
is  decent,  even  if  their  behaviour  is  not.  With  these  min- 
gle, in  fashionable,  dandified  attire,  negroes  of  all  shades, 
from  a  coal-black  down  to  a  pale,  dirty  brown,  mostly  ser- 
vants of  rich  families,  sent  out  on  errands.  And  in  the 
afternoon,  when  the  cooks  and  chambermaids  have  leisure 
to  walk  and  shop,  there  peeps  out  from  many  a  white  satin 
plumed  bonnet,  from  many  a  pink  or  sky-blue  dress-hat,  an 
African  face,  which  seems  to  belong  to  the  monkey  tribe 
rather  than  to  the  human  race. 

Standing  at  one  side,  or  sauntering  along  in  groups,  are 
some  foreign-looking  people,  in  strange  costume,  who  stare 
around  in  every  direction  with  their  great  blue  eyes,  some 
bewildered  and  half-frightened,  some  curious  and  inquiring. 
They  are  German  emigrants,  just  arrived,  mostly  women  and 
girls,  who,  while  the  men  are  arranging  about  the  mode  of 
continuing  their  journey,  are  passing  their  time  in  staring 
and  wondering.  They  are  clad  in  their  provincial  costume  ; 
generally  in  the  worst  pieces-  which  their  well-stocked  chests 
contain,  and  which  are  completely  worn  out  by  the  sea- 
voyage;  for  their  best  clothes  are  packed  up,  and  must  be 


TRAVELLING-SCENES.  305 

saved  for  Sundays,  and  for  their  grandchildren.  The  sun- 
burnt girls  are  without  bonnets  ;  their  fair  hair,  which  hangs 
down  in  long,  elaborate  braids,  protected  at  the  most  by  a 
little  cap.  There  is  something  in  this  mode  of  dress  which 
offends  the  American's  sense  of  decency.  The  shabby,  often 
hardly  clean,  travelling-gear  of  the  emigrants,  gives  them 
the  idea  of  great  poverty,  and  calls  forth  the  pity  of  the 
benevolent.  Particularly  if,  tired  with  sight-seeing  and 
roaming  about,  they  sit  down  to  rest  awhile  on  the  steps  of 
an  elegant  mansion,  it  is  so  contrary  to  all  customs  of  this 
country  that  any  female  should  thus  expose  herself,  that  this 
can  be  explained  only  by  the  supposition  of  extreme  misery, 
and  many  a  copper  and  silver  coin  flies  from  the  passers-by 
into  the  laps  of  the  astonished  women,  who  generally,  how- 
ever, without  much  hesitation,  gratefully  accept  of  the  volun- 
tary gift.  And  if  not,  there  are  many  hands  near-by  which 
are  eagerly  extended  for  it.  For  the  immigration  of  the  last 
twenty  years  has  inundated  New  York  with  the  plague  of 
most  large  European  cities,  the  troublesome  brood  of  insolent 
beggar  children  of  all  nations,  an  abandoned  race,  in  whom 
the  thinking  American  sees,  with  alarm,  the  curse  of  his 
favoured  land  growing  up. 

If  Clotilde  had  seen  Boston  first  of  all  the  large  Eastern 
sea  ports,  instead  of  New  York,  she  would  have  obtained  a 
purer,  though  less  animated,  picture  of  American  nationality. 
True,  the  immigration  in  masses  of  the  Irish,  a  thoroughly 
raw,  uneducated  people,  destitute  of  even  the  most  needful,  has 
had  a  considerably  denationalizing  influence  also  on  Boston. 
But  on  the  whole,  Boston  can  still  be  made  the  type  of  a 
truly  national,  purely  American  city.  Of  twenty  persons 
who  busily  thread  the  neatly-kept,  mostly  well-built  streets, 
nineteen  at  least  wear  the  dress  and  have  the  deportment  of 
respectable  people.  Everything  has  an  air  of  well-being,  of 
dignity,  and  activity.  The  landscape  around  the  city  is 
smiling  and  blooming,  like  a  carefully  and  tastefully  culti- 


306  THE   EXILES. 

vated  garden ;  but  Boston  itself,  a  Western  "  city  of  the 
seven  hills,"  built  in  picturesque  variety,  on  heights  and 
declivities,  by  the  stern  Puritan  fathers,  those  iron  men, 
who  defied  all  difficulties,  still  retains  its  serious,  venerable 
aspect. 

Clotilde,  however,  could  be  well  contented  that  she  had 
not  come  to  a  New  York  hotel  some  years  before,  instead  of 
at  present.  For  the  last  years  had  worked  a  considerable 
change  in  this  respect,  and  given  New  York  the  impress  of 
a  metropolis  also  as  regards  the  convenience  of  travellers. 
Some  years  before  it  might  have  happened  to  her,  for  in- 
stance, that  while  she  was  waiting  in  the  parlour  for  the  ar- 
rangement of  her  room,  the  chambermaid,  a  fair  one  from 
a  neighbouring  country-town,  would  have  come  to  her,  and 
comfortably  seated  herself  beside  her  on  the  sofa,  to  inform 
her  that  her  room  was  ready;  or  that,  if  she  had  perhaps 
been  belated  ten  minutes,  out  of  the  house,  and  had  conse- 
quently come  to  table  ten  minutes  after  the  dinner-bell  had 
rung,  she  would  have  been  told  that  the  table  was  full  now, 
that  she  would  have  to  wait  till  the  first  dinner  was  over, 
and  the  table  set  for  the  second  time.  For  it  is  a  matter  of 
course,  with  the  superabundance  of  American  meals,  that 
there  would  be  enough  left  for  a  second  table.  Now,  indeed, 
she  ran  no  such  risk  ;  for  the  great  furtherer  of  American 
cultivation,  competition,  has,  within  a  short  time,  called 
forth,  as  if  by  magic,  quite  a  number  of  large,  indeed  gigantic, 
hotels,  which,  in  elegance  and  comfort,  can  well  compare 
with  the  best  European  ones,  and  the  traveller  finds  accom- 
modation wherever  he  may  turn. 

Our  young  couple's  visit  to  New  York  was  exclusively 
devoted  to  business.  They  received  here  Sarah's  second 
letter  ;  but  Alonzo  neither  answered  them,  nor  did  they 
hear  from  Virginia  herself.  On  the  other  hand,  many  a 
kind,  sympathizing  word  came  to  Clotilde  from  Germany, 
for  all  her  friends  thought  her  indescribably  unhappy. 


TRAVELLING-SCENES.  307 

With  what  a  grateful  heart  did  she  write  to  them  how 
happy  she  was ! 

Only  with  regard  to  the  heavy  loss  of  property  which 
they  had  sustained,  the  intelligence  was  unsatisfactory. 
Only  a  small  sum — small  in  comparison  to  the  loss — could 
be  saved.  This,  however,  together  with  Hubert's  little  prop- 
erty, sufficed  to  secure  to  them  an  independent  existence, 
free  from  care,  particularly  if  they  chose  a  country  life. 

They  had  hardly  completed  this  business  when  Clotilde 
was  struck  by  an  advertisement  in  the  papers,  which  she 
immediately  communicated  to  Hubert.  It  was  a  notice 
that  a  small  farm  in  Vermont,  the  same  which  we  have 
described  in  the  foregoing  chapter,  was  for  sale.  The 
picturesque  beauty  and  seclusion  of  its  situation,  together 
with  a  very  low  price*,  awakened  Hubert's  interest.  Even 
if  they  were  not  to  succeed  in  this  undertaking,  the  loss 
would  be  inconsiderable.  Clotilde  renounced,  for  the  pre- 
sent, the  neighbourhood  of  a  city,  and  Hubert  the  far  West. 
Both  easily  agreed  to  proceed  in  person  to  the  place  in 
question,  and,  in  case  they  were  pleased  with  it,  to  purchase 
it.  And,  at  any  rate,  the  increasing  heat  of  the  summer 
threatened  soon  to  drive  them  from  New  York. 

In  any  country,  a  good  insight  into  the  manners  and 
character  of  its  people  will  be  gained  by  travelling  about  in 
the  interior.  But  nowhere  is  this  more  the  case  than  in 
the  regions  in  which  our  scene  is  laid.  For  the  American, 
particularly  the  native  of  New  England,  is  exceedingly 
sociable  and  communicative  in  his  travels.  European  trav- 
ellers have  often  complained  of  the  rudeness  and  want  of 
polish  which  they  have  met  with  in  the  West,  particularly 
on  the  Mississippi  steamboats  ;  whereas  they  must  certainly 
have  found  their  travelling-companions  in  the  East,  above 
all  in  New-England,  in  the  highest  degree  polite  and  oblig- 
ing. And  the  psychological  observer  will  easily  discover 
the  cause  of  this  apparent  contradiction,  even  if  he  should 


308  THE   EXILES. 

forget  that,  at  any  rate,  those  refined  attentions  which  are 
the  blossoms  of  a  higher  social  circle,  cannot  be  expected 
from  the  primitive  state  of  things  at  the  West,  a  state  in 
which  every  one  is  compelled  to  aid  himself,  and  to  defend 
his  own  right  against  such  attacks  of  others  as  may  be 
feared  at  all  times. 

The  Westerner  is  exceedingly  hospitable.  He  will  open 
his  house  to  the  wanderer,  and  bid  him  welcome  at  his  fire- 
side. No  one  will  find  him  unkind  and  repulsive  in  his  own 
house.  But  as  soon  as  he  leaves  his  home,  he  thinks  him- 
self obliged  to  stand  exclusively  upon  his  own  feet,  and 
sturdily  guard  his  rights  against  any  possible  interference 
from  others.  He  passes  carelessly  on,  and  tries  to  show, 
by  words  and  looks,  that  others  do  not  concern  him  in  the 
least. 

The  New-Englander,  on  the  other  hand,  and  the  inhab- 
itant of  the  Eastern  States  generally,  arranges  his  house 
comfortably  enough  for  himself  and  his  family.  But  only  a 
particular  introduction  will  open  his  door  to  the  stranger — • 
only  a  special  recommendation  give  the  stranger  a  place  at 
his  table.  He  cannot,  on  the  whole,  be  called  hospitable, 
but  he  is  not  unsociable.  Where  his  course  brings  him  in 
contact  with  others,  he  likes  to  exchange  civilities,  is  com- 
municative, and,  by  endless  questions,  eagerly  employs  every 
opportunity  to  gain  a  variety  of  information  on  the  most 
heterogeneous  subjects.  Foreigners  have  often  listened  with 
astonishment  to  the  familiar  steamboat  and  stage  conversa- 
tions of  a  nation,  which,  from  a  certain  dry  demeanour, 
they  have  unhesitatingly  pronounced  cold  and  reserved. 

Such  was  now  also  the  experience  of  our  two  German 
travellers.  Yermont,  at  that  time,  was  but  little  connected 
with  the  coast  by  railroad  ;  they,  therefore,  after  a  rapid 
steamboat  had  borne  them  through  the  Sound  to  Boston, 
found  themselves  seated,  with  seven  companions  inside,  and 
several  others  on  the  top  and  on  the  box,  in  an  immense 


TRAVELLING-SCENES.  300 

old-fashioned  stage-coach,  which  was  to  take  them  to  Con- 
cord. From  there  they  were  to  go  by  a  similar  conveyance 
to  Middlebury. 

Clotilde  was  stowed  away  in  one  corner  of  the  back  seat. 
In  the  other  sat  a  young  woman  from  Iowa,  who,  four 
months  before,  had  made  the  journey  of  fifteen  hundred 
miles  alone,  with  two  little  children,  to  visit  her  parents  on 
'their  farm  near  Boston,  and  was  now  returning  to  her  hus- 
band with  three.  The  two  older  children,  boys  of  two  and 
three,  as  she  had  only  paid  for  one  seat,  she  would  have 
squeezed  between  herself  and  Clotilde,  who  might  have 
found  them  rather  unruly  neighbours,  had  not  the  kindness 
of  her  fellow-travellers — that  is,.»the  male  portion  of  them — 
come  to  her  assistance,  and  now  one  gentleman,  then 
another,  offered  to  take  one  of  the  little  backwoodsmen 
on  his  knees. 

The  helplessness  of  the  delicate  young  mother  —  she 
seemed  hardly  twenty-two  years  of  age — joined  to  the 
enterprising  spirit  of  which  she  had  given  a  proof,  awakened 
the  most  general  interest.  The  gentlemen,  therefore,  with 
the  same  readiness  which  they  had  manifested  about  the 
children,  endeavoured  to  relieve  her  of  her  two  immense 
travelling-baskets.  One  was  disposed  of  under  the  knees  of 
one  of  these  obliging  individuals — the  other  on  the  knees  of 
another.  They  were  in  the  way  everywhere,  and  incommoded 
every  one  except  their  owner.  And  yet  they  could  not  be 
put  with  the  other  baggage  ;  for  one  contained  a  supply  of 
necessary  children's  clothing,  and  the  other  provisions  for 
the  journey.  The  farm  in  Iowa  yielded  victuals  in  plenty, 
but  not  so  much  cash  for  \paying  tavern  bills.  The  young 
mother  of  the  hungry  little  backwoodsmen,  who  seemed  to 
possess,  in  their  small  two  and  three-year-old  bodies,  the 
stomachs  of  boys  of  nine  and  ten,  consequently  abstained 
entirely  from  visiting  the  public  tables.  During  the  time 
when  her  companions  were  satisfying  their  appetites  with 


310  THE   EXILES. 

the  meals  kept  ill  readiness  for  them,  she  would  remain  with 
her  family  in  the  sitting-room  ;  and,  while  she  refreshed  the 
baby  from  its  natural  fountain,  would  feed  the  two  eldest, 
always  ready  to  eat,  with  gingerbread,  pies,  and  apples,  or 
with  whatever  else  grandma  had  stocked  the  basket  from  her 
store-room. 

Hubert  had  secured  a  place  on  the  middle  seat,  directly 
in  front  of  Clotilde.  By  his  side  sat  a  pleasant,  talkative 
gentleman,  who  seemed  to  live  only  for  others'  benefit. 
After  he  had  disposed  of  the  baskets  of  the  little  Western 
lady — placing  one  of  them  on  his  knees,  on  which  one  of 
the  boys  was  already  sitting — he  offered,  with  the  utmost 
politeness,  to  take  charge  %f  Clotilde's  parasol  and  small 
travelling-bag,  lest  they  might  incommode  her.  It  was  he 
who,  whenever  they  came  to  a  stopping-place,  asked  the 
ladies  if  they  would  not  like  some  water,  and  was  always 
ready  to  procure  it  for  -them.  He  seemed  to  have  travelled 
over  that  route  frequently,  for  he  was  quite  at  home  at 
every  inn,  inquired  after  the  health  of  every  individual 
member  of  the  host's  family,  and  was  everywhere  welcomed 
with  a  cordial  "  How  d'ye  do,  Major  Tenney  ?"  Though  he 
was  a  merchant,  this  was  his  rank  in  the  militia,  and,  like 
many  of  his  countrymen,  he  was  not  averse  to  this  military 
title.  He  himself  called  every  one  of  the  drivers  by  name, 
and  never  without  prefixing  the  title  "  Mr."  And  when,  as 
frequently  happened,  a  militia  officer  occupied  the  driver's 
seat,  he  never  omitted  to  address  him  by  his  appropriate 
title  of  Captain,  Major,  etc. 

And,  indeed,  such  an  American  stage-driver,  as,  from 
his  lofty  seat,  he  guides,  with  a  *ure  hand,  four,  sometimes 
six  horses,  defies  wind  and  weather  from  his  throne,  has  the 
mail-bag  in  his  safe  keeping,  arranges  the  seats,  and,  above 
all,  asserts  the  ladies'  rights  for  them,  is  a  man  who  may 
well  command  respect.  There  have  even  been  instances  that 
men  of  education  have  chosen  this  mode  of  life  to  strengthen 


TRAVELLING-SCENES.  311 

their  health  by  being  constantly  in  the  open  air,  and  to 
harden  themselves  against  all  influences  of  the  weather. 

The  Major  kept  up  a  conversation  with  two  gentlemen 
who  sat  opposite  him,  which  soon  passed  from  the  weather 
and  the  price  of  corn  to  political  subjects,  for  which  the 
elections  just  about  to  take  place  gave  ample  occasion.  The 
three  gentlemen  easily  recognised  each  other  as  Whigs  ;  but 
if  it  happened  that,  by  the  frequent  change  of  passengers — 
for  some  of  them  only  travelled  a  few  stages — men  of  differ- 
ent opinions  were  thrown  together,  a  new  turn  was  imme- 
diately given  to  the  conversation,  without  there  being  the 
slightest  alteration  in  the  feeling  of  mutual  good-will  and 
complaisancy  whicli  pervaded  the  company. 

For  the  American  seldom  admits  any  political  debates 
into  his  social  intercourse.  Just  because  he  belongs  deci- 
dedly to  a  certain  party,  which  he  would  only  weaken  by 
individual  opinions,  he  takes  it  for  granted  that  his  views 
are  known.  The  newspapers  are  their  organs,  and,  besides 
this,  he  has  helped  to  elect  the  representatives  whose  duty  it 
is  to  defend  them.  If  he  has  talent  for  political  speaking, 
he  will  know  how  to  make  use  of  it  at  the  meetings  of  his 
party,  or  at  public  dinners  and  other  similar  occasions, 
but  will  hardly  wish  to  display  it  in  his  every-day  intercourse. 
A  political  conversation,  therefore,  such  as  might  be  accident- 
ally entered  into  in  society,  will  rarely,  in  this  land  of  per- 
fect freedom  of  speech  and  thought,  throw  off  its  dry,  his- 
toriographic  character,  and  still  more  rarely,  by  an  animated 
exchange  of  contrary  opinions  on  one  and  the  same  subject, 
give  the  hearer  food  for  thought. 

Next  to  the  obliging  Major,  with  his  back  to  the  young 
mother,  sat  a  tall,  thin  man,  with  serious,  almost  stern 
features,  and  a  sallow  complexion.  His  white  cravat,  with 
his  otherwise  entirely  black,  somewhat  worn  attire,  showed 
that  he  was  a  clergyman.  He  paid  little  attention  to  the 
political  conversations  of  his  neighbours  ;  the  tariff  question 


312  THE   EXILES. 

was  evidently  indifferent  to  him,  and  he  cared  little  whether  the 
Whig  or  the  Loco-Foco  candidate  for  the  Presidency  would 
carry  the  day,  as  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Orthodox  church.  The  interests  of  this  church 
were  all  that  moved  him.  If,  from  time  to  time,  he  added  a 
few  words  to  the  conversation,  it  was  only  to  defend  these 
interests. 

He  liked,  however,  to  take  advantage  of  a  pause,  to  begin 
a  conversation  of  a  different  kind,  by  which  he  hoped  to  give 
the  Lord  His  due,  with  a  lady  in  black  who  sat  opposite  to 
him,  and  whose  acquaintance  he  had  only  made  on  the 
journey. 

This  old  lady,  a  clergyman's  widow,  who  was  returning 
from  a  visit  to  a  married  daughter  in  Boston,  willingly 
entered  into  such  a  conversation,  and  broke  out  into  com- 
plaints about  the  spreading  of  Unitarian  congregations  over 
the  whole  of  Massachusetts,  for  which  she  had  not  been  at 
all  prepared.  She  relied,  however,  on  her  daughter's  influ- 
ence with  her  son-in-law,  who,  she  was  sorry  to  say,  inclined 
that  way  too,  and  sometimes  even  attended  Universalist 
churches.  In  answer  to  the  clergyman's  inquiries,  she  re- 
lated one  thing  and  another  about  the  state  of  the  churches 
in  and  around  her  town,  and  both  commenced,  with  quiet 
self-sufficiency,  to  make  an  exchange  of  their  Christian 
experiences. 

The  widow,  particularly,  had  many  a  marvellous  tale  of 
conversion  to  relate,  and  could,  in  many  cases,  specify  the 
day  and  hour  when  relatives,  friends,  and  acquaintances  had 
found  grace.  Her  sou,  she  said,  who  had  been  with  her  to 
visit  his  sister,  and  was  riding  on  top  of  the  stage,  because 
he  had  found  no  room  inside,  had  met  with  some  of  the  most 
delightful  instances  of  this  kind.  For  he  had  travelled  in 
the  West  as  a  colporteur,  and  had  helped  -  scatter  the 
seed  with  faithful  hand.  Often  enough,  she  complained, 
ingratitude  had  been  his  reward,  and  he  had  had  to  endure 


TKAVJELLING-SCENES.  313 

ridicule  and  insult  from  the  children  of  Baal,  and  had  done 
so  willingly  ;  but  then  again  the  Lord  had  repaid  him  by 
showing  him  that  the  stone  which  he  had,  with  groat  exer- 
tion, bro tight  from  afar  for  the  rebuilding  of  Ziou,  was  truly 
aiding  to  build  up  His  fortress  anew. 

"  The  most  beautiful  circumstance,"  she  continued,  "  which 
he  ever  experienced,  took  place  in  Wisconsin,  and  I  must 
say  that  it  has  always  moved  me  to  tears.  A  family  from 
Boston  had  moved  there  ;  rich  aristocratic  people  they  had 
been  formerly,  but  the  father  had  made  a  wrong  speculation, 
and  failed  a  few  times,  and  there  was  nothing  left  but  to  go 
out  West  ;*the  wife  had  a  piece  of  land  left  there  ;  she 
was  very  rich  when  she  married,  but  her  husband  had  in- 
vested all  her  property  in  his  business.  That  piece  of  land 
in  Wisconsin,  west  of  Fort  Winnebago,  was  all  that  was 
left  to  them  ;  and  there  they  were  going  to  live  as  farmers  ! 
But,  sir,  they  were  not  the  kind  of  folks  for  that  !  The 
daughters  had  been  educated  at  fashionable  boarding-schools  ; 
neither  they  nor  the  mother  were  used  to  working.  And  they 
had  lived  like  heathens,  sir  !  They  used  to  go  to  balls, 
and  to  the  theatre,  and  never  had  a  family-altar,  and  on 
Sundays  they  only  went  once  to  church,  if  they  went  at  all, 
and  then  always  to  the  Episcopal  church,  because  there  was 
the  most  dress  there,  and  the  most  carriages  before  the  doors." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  find,"  remarked  the  clergyman,  "  that 
among  other  wicked  customs  in  our  sea-ports,  that  of  driving 
on  the  Sabbath  is  becoming  more  and  more  prevalent.  In 
the  country  it  cannot  be  avoided,  on  account  of  the  great 
distance  at  which  some  of  the  parishioners  live  from  their 
church  ;  and  then  there  are  usually  accommodations  for  dis- 
posing.of  the  horses,  so  that  no  one  need  go  without  the 
Bread  of  Life  in  order  to  attend  to  them.  But  in  the  city 
it  is  sinful  for  those  who  have  strength  to  walk,  to  ride  to 
church,  because  they  thus  prevent  one  of  their  fellow-beinga 
from  fulfilling  his  duty  to  God." 
14 


314  THE    EXILES. 

"  Very  true,"  replied  the  widow.  "  And  yet  I  would 
hardly  have  found  it  more  improper  for  them  to  have  ridden, 
than  if  they  had  walked  up  and  down  Beacon-street  after 
church,  as  is  now  the  custom  in  Boston.  My  daughter  tells 
me  that  the  Misses " 

"  If  you  please,"  the  clergyman  interrupted  her,  "  men- 
tion no  names  !" 

The  widow  reddened.  "  Well,  they  don't  belong  here,  at 
any  rate.  I  was  going  to  tell  you  of  the  family  in  Wisconsin. 
They  led  a  pretty  dull  life  out  there,  particularly  the  poor 
girls.  I  fear  they  grew  quite  like  heathens.  For  there  was 
no  church  far  and  wide.  When  my  son  came  there,  there 
was  only  one  testament  in  the  house,  and  that  lay  on  the 
mantelpiece,  covered  with  dust.  The  parents,  however,  who 
had  been  piously  brought  up,  and  had  only  suffered  them- 
selves to  be  carried  away  by  the  world — weak,  sinful 
creatures,  as  we  all  are,  whose  faith  was  not  firm — they,  I 
say,  would  have  wished  it  to  be  otherwise.  The  father,  as 
they  told  my  son  afterwards,  had  made  several  attempts  to 
introduce  family-worship  at  least  on  the  Sabbath,  as  they 
could  not^go  to  church.  But  long  neglect  had  made  him 
timid  and  awkward.  When  he  did  not  immediately  succeed, 
he  lost  all  courage,  and  now  they  had  been  living  without 
religion  for  years.  The  girls  had  grown  old  in  that  time, 
twenty-four  or  five  years  old,  and  were  already  quite  faded 
when  my  son  came  there." 

"And  was  your  son  able  to  gain  an  influence  over  this 
family  ?"  inquired  the  clergyman. 

"  Not  he  himself,"  rejoined  the  lady,  "  he  was  only  au 
humble  instrument.  But  he  left  in  their  possession,  when  he 
departed,  a  bible  and  a  number  of  tracts,  which  the  two 
girls  greedily  fell  upon,  for  they  had  not  seen  a  new  book 
since  time  immemorial,  and  their  novels,  which  they  had 
brought  from  Boston,  were  all  read  to  pieces.  A  few  weeks 
passed  in  this  way.  On  his  way  back  to  Boston,  my  son 


TllAVELLING-ScENES.  315 

thought  he  would  see  whether  the  seed  in  Farminghall,  so 
the  place  was  called,  had  sprung  up.  When  he  got  there, 
he  immediately  observed  that  everything  in  the  house  wore  a 
different  aspect.  The  gospel  on  the  mantelpiece  was  free 
from  dust,  and  the  new  bible  which  he  had  left  behind,  lay 
beside  it.  The  father  was  from  home,  but  the  mother  and 
daughters  received  him  very  cordially,  and  told  him  re- 
peatedly: 'You  have  done  us  much  good;  the  books  which 
you  left  to  us,  were  like  manna  in  the  desert.'  During  tea 
the  conversation  turned  upon  various  Christian  subjects,  and 
when  he  afterwards  proposed  to  pray  with  them,  they  thank- 
fully accepted  his  offer.  And  when  they  had  all  knelt 
down,  and  the  Lord  was  putting  words  into  his  mouth  and 
thoughts  into  his  mind — for,  heaven  knows,  I  am  his  mother, 
but  I  must  say  it's  not  natural  to  him  ;  he  never  was  par- 
ticularly br'ght,  and  of  eloquence  he  never  had  a  tra^e — the 
eldest  daughter  cried  out  of  a  sudden:  'MoL.er!  I  have 
found  Jesus  !' — and  the  youngest  began  to  weep,  and  cried  : 
'  In  me,  too,  a  light  is  breaking,  the  Lord  be  praised!'  And 
all  at  once,  he  says,  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  came  powerfully 
over  him,  and  the  words  flowed  from  his  lips  as  if  with 
tongues  of  angels,  till  he  had  finally  softened  and  crushed 
the  struggling  souls.  And  when  they  had  risen  from  their 
knees,  and  were  embracing  each  other  with  tears,  aud  Wel- 
coming each  other  as  sisters  in  Christ,  for  the  mother,  too, 
was  carried  away,  and  all  the  memories  of  her  youth  came 
ba^k  to  her — I  mentioned  that  she  was  the  child  of  Christian 
parents,  and  where  the  seed  has  once  fallen,  even  if  it  lies 
a  long  time  as  if  dead,  the  hour  will  come,  at  last,  when  it 
will  spring  up — while  they  were  all  rejoicing  in  the  Lord,  the 
father  returned  from  his  journey.  So  they  ran  to  meet  him 
with  the  joyful  intelligence  that  they  had  at  length  found 
Jesus;  for  they  knew  that  the  father  had  long  since  been 
wishing  that  his  daughters  miirht  be  Christians.  And  there 
was  joy  there,  says  my  son,  such  as  he  had  never  seen  in  his 


316  THE    EXILES. 

life.  And  the  same  eveuing  the  old  man  tried  once  more  to 
pray,  and  this  time  he  succeeded.  For  now  he  knew  that 
lie  was  not  alone  in  his  striving;  other  believing  hearts  were 
being  lifted  up  to  the  Lord  with  his.  My  son  says  it  was 
the  most  touching  scene  he  ever  witnessed." 

"  A  beautiful  new  instance  of  the  power  of  prayer,"  said 
the  reverend  gentleman,  when  the  widow  had  finished  her 
long  story,  during  which  the  Major  had  yawned  repeatedly, 
and  the  young  Western  mother  had  gently  fallen  asleep. 
"  May  your  son,  whom  Providence  has  made  the  instrument 
of  the  salvation  of  a  whole  family,  recognise  this  with  due 
gratitude  to  God.  Such  rapid  conversions,  however,  ought  to 
be  looked  upon  with  a  certain  degree  of  mistrust.  Not  that 
they  are  less  sincere,  but  they  are  frequently  not  so  lasting. 
The  new  man  cannot  be  put  on  at  once.  Every  child  of 
Adam  has  to  keep  watch  over  himself  with  anxiety  and 
prayer,  tht.t  he  fall  not  into  the  snares  of  the  Evil  One  ;  but 
those  who  have  long  lived  in  sin,  have  twofold  need  of  doing 
so.  Let  us  therefore  include  your  son's  friends  every  morn- 
ing and  evening  in  our  prayers,  my  dear  madam  !" 

During  this  conversation  the  stage  had  taken  up  an 
additional  female  passenger,  to  whom,  as  the  inside  was  full, 
one  of  the  gentlemen  had  obligingly  given  up  his  seat,  by 
taking  a  place  on  the  driver's  box.  The  new  comer  was 
middle-aged,  and  pleasing  in  appearance  ;  in  her  neat,  ex- 
ceedingly plain  attire  a  certain  anticipated  inclination  to 
Bloomerism  was  observable  ;  in  particular  a  large  round 
straw  hat  was  quite  conspicuous,  at  a  time  when  fashion  pre- 
scribed the  graceful,  sheltering  cottage  bonnet. 

For  a  long  time  she  had  listened  to  the  pious  conversation 
with  a  certain  pitying  smile.  At  length  it  seemed  to  be 
getting  too  much  for  her.  The  widow  was  just  taking  breath 
for  a  new  story  of  wonderful  conversions,  when  she,  without 
much  ceremony,  cut  short  her  words  by  asking  Hubert,  across 
the  old  lady  : 


TRAVELLING-SCENES.  317 

"  You  are  a  German,  sir  ?" 

"  I  am,  madam  1"  was  his  answer. 

"Then  you  are  from  the  land  of  thinkers.  How  many 
strange  things  you  must  have  come  across  in  our  country  ! 
I  don't  think  there  is  another  country  in  the  world,  where,  in 
spite  of  its  famous  political  liberty  and  equality,  extremes 
meet  so  harshly  as  with  us." 

"I  do  not  quite  understand  your  remark,"  replied  Hubert; 
"  I  suppose  you  are  speaking  with  regard  to  slavery — " 

"  What  I  said  would  indeed  answer  just  as  well  for  the 
mockery  which  with  us  is  made  of  the  name  of  Liberty.  But 
I  was  referring  to  an  event  which  must  be  known  to  you  all, 
for,  as  far  as  I  know,  you  come  from  Boston.  That  in  our 
country,  whose  mere  political  existence  belongs  already  to 
the  nobler  blossoms  of  humanity,  the  barbarity  of  a  legal 
murder  can  continue — this  forms  a  contrast  as  striking  as 
that  between  freedom  and  slavery." 

Hubert  remembered  that  the  execution  of  a  female  in- 
cendiary had  taken  place  in  Boston  the  day  before,  a  woman 
whose  premeditated  crime  had  been  the  destruction  of  a 
whole  family. 

"  I  am  not  familiar  with  the  particulars  of  the  case,"  he 
said,  "  but  from  all  that  I  have  heard,  one  of  the  blackest 
crimes  was  punished  in  this  instance." 

"  Punished.  You  have  said  it.  And  would  it  enter  your 
mind  to  have  an  unfortunate  sick  man  put  to  death,  who  had 
injured  his  attendant  in  the  delirium  of  fever  ?" 

"  It  seems  to  me  that  this  case  is  very  diiferent.  But  you 
probably  disapprove  of  capital  punishment  altogether." 

"  Capital  punishment,  as  it  is  called,  is,  in  my  eyes, 
nothing  but  a  legal  murder,  and  just  because  it  is  a  legal 
act,  against  which  no  defence  can  be  made,  a  much  blacker 
crime  than  other  murders." 

"  Madam,"  said  the  clergyman,  in  a  severe  tone,  "  the 
authority  of  the  Holy  Scriptures — " 


318  THE   EXILES. 

But  the  lady  in  the  Bloomer  hat  interrupted  him,  and 
continued,  to  Hubert : 

"  Still  more,  sir,  I  fear  you  will  call  me  paradoxical,  when 
I  declare  that  I  not  only  object  to  capital  punishment  as 
criminal,  but  that  I  also  gainsay  the  general  right  of  the 
authorities  to  punish,  as  long  as  their  aim  is  punishment,  and 
not  amendment,  that  is,  cure." 

"Your  theory  is  dangerous,"  remarked  Hubert,  with  a 


The  lady,  evidently  flattered  by  the  general  attention 
which  was  directed  to  her,  continued  : 

"  All  injuries  and  diseases  of  the  body  can  be  traced 
back  to  causes  completely  analogous  to  those  which  occasion 
injuries  or  diseases  of  the  brain  ^  such  as  original  malforma- 
tion, sympathy  with  other  diseased  parts  of  the  system, 
contagion,  accidental  wounding,  etc.  Now  when  we  speak 
of  persons  who  are  diseased  in  any  other  organ  than  the 
brain,  we  never  think  of  punishing  them  for  their  mis- 
fortune." 

"  That  would  be  absurd,"  said  Major  Tenney. 

"  Certainly,"  replied  the  fair  speaker.  "  On  the  contrary, 
we  are  convinced  that  the  pain  which  they  endure,  and  the 
restraint  of  being  confined  to  their  room  or  their  bed,  to 
which  they  are  obliged  to  submit,  'ought  rather  to  excite  our 
pity  than  our  anger.  We  rather  urge  them  to  seek  the  aid 
of  a  physician.  Why  then  should  we  change  our  views  and 
our  conduct,  when  the  organ  which  is  in  an  unhealthy  state 
happens  to  be  the  brain  ?" 

"  And  so  you  think,"  asked  Hubert,  "  that  the  will  of  man 
has  nothing  to  do  with  his  actions  ?" 

"  It  is  just  his  will  that  is  diseased,"  rejoined  the  fair  phi- 
losopher, with  a  compassionate  smile.  "Just  as  reasonable  as 
it  would  be  to  whip  a  man  because  he  has  suffered  himself  to 
be  infected  with  the  scarlet  fever,  just  so  reasonable,  I  say,  it 
is  to  observe  this  mode  of  proceeding  towards  an  individual 


TRAVELLING-SCENES.  319 

whose  physical  constitution  forces  him  to  take  possession  of 
whatever  he  can  lay  hold  of.  The  seed  of  the  disease  was  in 
the  system  of  the  former,  and  in  most  cases  he  has  exposed 
himself  to  the  danger  of  infection  by  some  kind  of  careless- 
ness. Just  so  the  original  predisposition  to  the  appropriation 
of  others'  property  lay  in  the  mind  of  the  moral  patient, 
and  his  whole  error  consists  in  his  not  withstanding  the 
temptation  of  indulging  his  inborn  inclination,  at  the  right 
time." 

"I  am  only  afraid,"  remarked  a  gentleman  who  sat  next 
to  her,  with  a  slight  sneer,  "  that  though  the  thief  might,  by 
a  good  drubbing,  be  deterred  from  a  repetition  of  his  error, 
the  same  means  would  hardly  prevent  the  other  from  catching 
the  fever  again  at  some  future  time." 

"  Why  not  ?"  replied  Miss  Buruet — for  this  was  the  name 
of  the  lady  in  the  Bloomer  hat — "the  dread  of  a  whip- 
ping will  at  least  induce  him  to  follow  the  laws  of  health 
so  punctually  in  future,  that  his  constitution,  strengthened  by 
this,  will  withstand  a  subsequent  danger  of  infection,  and 
neither  a  whipping  nor  any  other  punishment  can  do  more  for 
the  unfortunate  transgressor  against  the  laws  of  the  govern- 
ment ;  it  will  at  the  most  induce  him  to  submit  to  the  civil 
laws,  but  by  no  means  to  those  of  morality." 

"And  that  is  all  that  it  is  meant  to  do,"  said  the  clergy- 
man. "  'An  eye  for  an  eye,  a  tooth  for  a  tooth,'  we  are 
taught  by  the  law  of  Moses.  The  government  has  no  other 
means  of  enforcing  the  observance  of  what  you  call  the  laws 
of  morality,  than  the  spreading  of  the  Bible.  In  a  Christian 
country  there  ought " 

Miss  Burnet  looked  at  him  contemptuously.  "  The 
Mosaic  law,  sir,  that  you  quoted,  is  a  law  of  revenge,  not 
of  punishment.  Christianity  has  annulled  this  terrible  code, 
by  teaching  true  socialism  in  the  love  of  our  brethren  and 
neighbours.  As  a  servant  of  the  Lord  you  must  necessarily 
know  what  Jesus,  the  greatest  of  philanthropists,  taught  us 


320  THE   EXILES. 

in  the  place  of  that  law  of  bloody  revenge:  '  Unto  him  that 
smiteth  thee  on  the  one  cheek,  offer  also  the  other  ;  and  him 
that  taketh  away  thy  cloak,  forbid  not  to  take  thy  coat 
also  !' " 

"  If  you  would  make  the  law  of  brotherly  love  the  founda- 
tion of  a  code  of  civil  law,"  said  Hubert,  in  jest,  "you 
should,  to  be  consistent,  give  up  everything  to  the  rogues 
of  Sing  Sing  and  Auburn,  who,  with  all  their  '  predisposition 
to  the  appropriation  of  others'  property,'  have  so  far  been 
satisfied  with  a  part." 

"  You  misunderstand  me,  sir,"  replied  the  philanthropist, 
with  a  calm  smile.  "  I  am  far  from  wishing  that  these  un- 
fortunate victims  of  their  demoniac  desires  should  be  left  to 
their  unbridled  propensity  for  them.  This  would  be  acting 
just  as  criminally  as,  for  instance,  the  surgeon  who,  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  traverses  a  battle-field,  and,  because  he 
objects  to  war  from  principle,  does  not  make  use  of  the  ban- 
dages and  instruments  by  which  he  might  alleviate  the 
sufferings  of  the  wounded  who  are  lying  around  him.  On 
the  contrary,  I  am  of  opinion  that  the  infirmities  of  human 
society  are  in  urgent  need  of  remedy.  Only  we  should  not 
hear  of  penitentiaries  and  houses  of  correction,  but  merely 
of  institutions  for  reformation  and  cure.  A  person  who 
neglects  the  laws  of  health,  by  a  sudden,  imprudent  change 
of  atmosphere,  for  instance,  and  thus  draws  upon  himself 
a  disease  of  the  lungs,  has  to  submit  to  keeping  his  room  or 
bed,  or  perhaps  to  a  temporary  exile  to  a  warm  climate, 
to  remedy  the  injurious  effects  of  his  imprudence.  And  one 
who  thoughtlessly,  and  without  having  taken  the  necessary 
precautions,  exposes  himself  to  the  inhaling  of  an  impure 
atmosphere,  and  thus  contracts  a  contagious  disease,  must 
also  bear  the  consequences.  He  must  be  excluded  from 
the  society  of  his  fellow-men,  to  whom  his  vicinity  must 
be  injurious,  and  if  he  does  not  do  this  of  his  own  accord, 
it  is  the  duty  of  these  his  fellow-men  towards  themselves  as 


TRAVELLING-SCENES.  321 

well  as  towards  him,  to  force  him  thus  to  exclude  himself,  to 
convey  him  to  a  purer  atmosphere,  and  to  prevent  the  com- 
munication of  liis  disease  to  others,  as  well  as  compel  him 
to  use  the  appropriate  means  of  cure.  It  is  the  same  when 
an  individual,  from  a  hereditary  propensity,  the  infection  of 
bad  example,  or  from  any  other  cause,  transgresses  against 
the  laws  of  morality.  It  is  the  duty  of  society  to  remove 
him  from  the  source  of  infection,  and  to  deprive  him  of  the 
means  of  communicating  the  evil  to  others;  that  is,  to  keep 
clown  the  unhealthy  tendency  of  his  soul,  and  to  heal  and 
strengthen  his  diseased  organs." 

"  "  According  to  your  view,  then,  prisons  are  nothing  more 
than  moral  hospitals  ?"  inquired  Hubert,  who  had  listened 
to  her  attentively. 

"  Nothing  more,"  replied  Miss  Burnet.  "  I  myself,  as 
you  see  me  here,  am  matron  of  the  so-called  House'  of  Cor- 
rection in ,"  naming  one  of  the  first  institutions  of  the 

United  States,  "  and  have  only  a  short  leave  of  absence  to 
visit  my  sick  mother,  who  lives  in.  this  neighbourhood.  I 
assure  yon,  no  human  power  could  have  induced  me  to 
accept  of  such  a  situation,  if  I  had  looked  upon  the  institu- 
tion placed  under  my  care,  as  a  mere  machine  for  punish- 
ment and  correction.  On  the  contrary,  I  regard  myself  as 
a  moral  female  physician,  as  a  priestess  of  philanthropic 
socialism,  by  which  alone  the  good  of  mankind  should  be 
striven  for,  because  by  it  alone  this  good  can  be  attained.  I 
feel  that  I  have  already  accomplished  a  great  deal  in  the 
few  years  of  my  activity.  The  individual,  however,  is  but  a 
drop  in  the  vast  ocean  of  depravity.  Just  as  there  are  schools 
of  medicine  and  law,  and  theological  seminaries,  in  our 
country,  there  ought  also  to  be  schools  of  social  philanthropy, 
the  desks  of  which  should  be  occupied  by  professors  of  oar 
sex,  whose  rights  are  limited  to  such  a  shameful  degree." 

"Your  system,"   rejoined   Hubert,   "contains   a  certain 
degree   of  truth,   if  you   apply  it  to  undeveloped,   childish 
14* 


322  THE   EXILES. 

minds.  I,  too,  am  convinced  that  the  human  race  needs 
reformation,  and  that  the  evil  can  only  be  remedied  by  an 
improved  education  of  the  people.  The  creature  comes  from 
his  Creator's  hands  entirely  pure  ;  his  ill-directed  passions 
and  evil  examples  bring  confusion  into  his  soul,  and  lead  him 
to  vice  and  ruin." 

The  clergyman  turned  his  eye  upon  Hubert  with  an  ex- 
pression of  almost  greater  disapprobation  than  that  with 
which  he  had  for  some  time'  been  regarding  the  lady. 

'  The  original  sin  and  total  depravity  of  the  human  race," 
he  said,  indignantly,  "  can  only  be  washed  away  by  the  blood 
of  Christ.  Neither  your  philosophy  nor  your  philanthropy 
will  accomplish  that.  Grace  alone  can  do  so.  Teach  men 
how  to  pray  and  how  to  believe  from  the  Holy  Scriptures ! 
That  is  all  they  need  !" 

Miss  Burnet  seemed  determined  never  to  take  any  notice 
of  the  reverend  gentleman.  Perhaps  she  secretly  felt  the 
power  of  the  "  church  militant."  She  merely  said  : 

"  You  are  both  mistaken,  gentlemen  !"  and  continued, 
turning  again  to  Hubert : 

"  You,  sir,  in  particular,  in  thinking  certain  diseases  more 
easy  to  be  cured  in  children  than  in  adults.  You  cannot  but 
be  aware  that  the  mortality  among  children  is  also  dispro- 
portionately great.  My  experience  has  taught  me  that  the 
more  intellectually  gifted  and  developed  a  person  is,  the 
more  hope  there  is  for  his  cure." 

"And  what  means  do  you  employ  ?"  inquired  Hubert. 

"I  have  found,"  rejoined  Miss  Buruet,  seating  herself 
more  comfortably  for  the  explanation,  "  nothing  more  en- 
couraging in  the  treatment  of  criminals,  than  the  excellent 
effect  which  is  produced  when  I  open  to  them  the  knowledge 
of  the  peculiar  constitution  of  their  minds  and  brains.  As 
soon  as  I  have  given  them,  by  means  of  phrenology,  a  clear 
conception  of  the  source  of  their  evil  desires,  all  mystery, 
all  doubt,  all  uncertainty  immediately  disappear.  I  show 


TRAVELLING-SCENES.  323 

them  that  the  strength  of  these  desires  is  just  as  much 
governed  by  physical  laws,  as  that  of  a  member  of  their 
bodies  or  any  other  organ,  and  that,  if  they  submit  to  this 
power,  it  will  continually  increase.  I  prove  to  them  that  a 
sure  and  beneficial  progress  on  the '  road  of  moral  reforma- 
tion, can  only  be  made  possible  by  putting  a  check  on  our 
inclinations  by  means  of  our  reason  and  our  moral  senti- 
ments. This  gives  them  a  clear,  distinct  idea  of  that  which 
is  their  duty,  and  the  manner  in  which  they  can  fulfil  it.  By 
this  much  is  already  gained. 

"  Then  I  seek  to  give  them  a  conception  of  the  application 
of  their  own  constitution  to  that  of  outward  nature,  of  the 
conditions  of  human  happiness,  and  the  immutability  of  the 
laws  on  which  it  depends,  and  also  of  the  relation  which 
exists  between  them  and  their  Creator." 

"  And  are  you  certain  of  always  being  understood  ?" 
asked  Hubert,  smiling. 

"  Even  among  the  most  stupid,"  replied  the  philanthrop- 
ical  lady,  rather  nettled,  "  there  is  not  one,  who  has  not 
been  in  some  measure  improved  by  a  plain  and  energetic 
explanation  of  his  duty,  and  the  knowledge  of  the  sources 
and  conditions  of  happiness.  And  where  there  is  good 
sense  and  a  powerful  will,  my  mode  of  instruction  has 
already  produced  remarkable  effects.  Yes,  I  am  convinced 
that  I  owe  the  extraordinary  improvement  which  has  taken 
place  during  the  eight  months  that  I  have  had  charge  of 
the  institution,  chiefly  to  phrenology.  To  be  sure,  there  is 
not  very  much  time  left  for  that,  as  the  tasks  prescribed 
must  be  punctually  attended  to.  But  my  confidence  in  this 
system  is  so  great,  that  I  have  endeavoured  to  supply  our 
prison  library,  apart  from  several  copies  of  the  Scriptures, 
chiefly  with  phrenological  books  and  similar  writings,  which, 
by  an  explanation  of  the  physical  constitution  of  man,  give 
him  an  insight  into  his  moral  condition.  At  the  head  of 
these  works  is  that  of  Combe  '  On  the  Constitution  of 


334  THE    EXILES. 

Man,'  one  of  the  most  wonderful  creations  of  the  human 
mind,  and  particularly  remarkable  for  lucid  distinctness  and 
keen  practicability.  As  a  special  means  of  encouragement 
I  sometimes  put  this  or  a  similar  book  into  the  hands  of 
one  of  our  most  intelligent  patients,  and — never  without  suc- 
cess." 

At  this  juncture  the  stage  stopped  near  a  small  farm- 
house. The  driver  jumped  down  and  opened  the  door. 
"  Miss  Burnet,"  he  said,  "  we're  only  a  mile  or  two  from 
Brookfield  here.  I  can't  take  you  any  nearer  ;  you'll  find 
a  boy  here  to  carry  your  bag  for  you." 

The  fair  speaker  seemed  to  regret  the  interruption.  But 
there  was  no  choice.  She  thanked  the  driver,  paid  his 
fare,  bade  her  travelling-companions  good-day,  and  alight- 
ed. Her  bag  was  thrown  off,  and  .the  stage-coach  rolled 
away. 

For  a  while  after  she  had  left,  there  was  an  agreeable 
silence  in  the  carriage.  At  length  the  Major  said : 

"  The  lady's  got  sense,  that's  a  fact.  And  an  uncommon 
confidence  in  her  system  she's  got,  that  can't  be  denied." 

"The kingdom  of  God  is  in  great  danger  in  our  country," 
sighed  the  widow,  who  had  been  silent  during  the  whole 
conversation,  "if  such  principles  gain  an  influence  here. 
What  was  that  book  she  mentioned  ?" 

"  A  production  of  the  most  objectionable  atheism," 
replied  the  clergyman,  with  undisguised  abhorrence.  "  You 
are  indeed  right,  our  country  is  in  a  sad  state,  if  the  govern- 
ment tolerates  such  abominations.  If  this  woman  had 
introduced  the  '  Shorter  Catechism'  in  her  prison,  and  taught 
its  divine  truths,  there  would  have  been  an  outcry  about 
'  sectarian  spirit,'  and  '  puritanism."  Secretary  Benton's 
decision  has  successfully  banished  the  golden  grains  of  the 
American  Tract  Society  from  the  school  libraries,  but 
infidel  works  like  Combe's  and  Austin's  are  tolerated,  and 
introduced  into  our  public  institutions  !" 


r|RAVELLING-ScENES.  325 

"  If  we  cou'd  only  have  pious  men  at  the  helm  once 
more  !"  sighed  ;he  widow. 

But  neither  .he  nor  her  clerical  friend  had  much  time  to 
continue  their  t.ornplaints;  one  after  the  other  reached  his 
or  her  destination,  or  the  neighbourhood  of  it,  and  left  the 
stage.  The  clergyman,  as  well  as  the  widow  and  her  son, 
had  made  roon.  for  other  travellers.  The  gentlemen  who 
had  commence*  I  their  journey  on  top  of  the  coach,  were 
finally  fortunate  enough  to  be  able  to  continue  it  inside,  a 
circumstance  tt  which  they  could  rejoice,  for  a  heavy 
shower  was  just  coming  up,  and  black,  threatening  clouds 
covered  the  sky. 

When,  at  1<  ngth,  the  rain  began  to  fall  in  large,  heavy 
drops,  announcing  the  torrents  which  were  to  follow  them, 
and  the  driver  wrapped  himself  up  in  his  yellow  oilcloth 
cloak,  the  company  inside  compassionately  agreed  to  take  in 
the  only  outsu'e  passenger  left.  The  oldest  of  the  little 
backwoodsmen  was  disposed  of  on  the  lap  of  one  of  the 
gentlemen,  and  the  thinnest  of  the  latter  squeezed  in  between 
the  two  ladies  to  make  room  for  the  ninth,  or  rather  the 
twelfth  passenger. 

Hardly  had  this  arrangement  been  made,  when  the  clouds 
burst  with  might,  and  the  rain,  in  massive  torrents,  inundated 
the  ground.  The  horses  pulled  with  redoubled  force,  and  ran 
as  if  lashed  bv  the  wind.  The  leather  side-curtains  were 
carefully  buttoned,  and  a  feeling  of  comfort  came  over  the 
travellers  in  the  weather-tight  coach. 

Suddenly  the  carriage  stopped,  and  the  driver  was  heard 
speaking  and  i  :plying  to  another  male  voice,  which  seemed 
to  be  urging  something.  "To-morrow  '11  do  just  as  well, 
miss,"  the  driver  was  plainly  heard  to  say,  "  I'll  take  you 
to-morrow,"  and  a  woman's  voice  mingled  with  the  answer. 
At  this  the  gentlemen  could  restrain  their  curiosity  no  longer, 
and  the  curtain  on  the  side  from  which  the  voices  came,  was 
unbuttoned. 


326  THE   EXILES. 

Through  the  thick  veil  of  the  pouring  rain,  a  young  girl 
was  seen  standing  by  the  roadside,  over  whom  a  well-dressed 
elderly  man  was  holding  an  umbrella,  without  being  able  to 
protect  more  of  her  person  than  her  straw  bonnet,  on  which 
bloomed  a  whole  bed  of  various-coloured  flowers.  Her  black 
silk  mantilla  seemed  little  adapted  to  shelter  her  from  the 
storm,  and  from  the  three  flounces  of  her  pink  muslin  dress, 
such  streams  of  water  were  dripping  down  around  her,  that, 
however  often  she  changed  her  position,  before  she  knew  it, 
she  would  again  be  standing  in  a  pond.  "The  man  beside  her 
— evidently  her  father — held  in  his  left  hand  the  umbrella, 
whose  insufficient  protection  he  tried  to  give  in  part  to  his 
daughter,  in  part  to  a  bandbox  tied  up  in  a  cloth,  which,  with 
his  right  hand,  he  pressed"  close  to  his  side.  The  two  formed 
a  group  at  the  sight  of  which  none  of  the  travellers  could 
refrain  from  laughing.  The  pretty  maiden  threw  a  proud, 
angry  glance  into  the  midst  of  the  company. 

Her  father  was  a  farmer  from  the  immediate  neighbour- 
hood, who  could  very  well  have  taken  her  to  the  next 
stopping-place  of  the  stage  in  his  buggy  ;  only  that  the 
house  was  situated  hardly  a  thousand  paces  from  the  road 
on  which  the  stage  would  pass,  and  that  it  seemed  more 
convenient  to  wait  for  it  here,  than  to  drive  an  hour's  dis- 
tance and  expose  the  new  pink  muslin  dress  to  the  dust,  or 
perhaps  the  approaching  shower.  The  stage  came  by  ra- 
ther later  than  they  had  expected,  for  the  various  changes 
of  passengers  had  delayed  it.  The  storm  broke  out  so  sud- 
denly and  violently,  that  there  was  no  hope  of  reaching  the 
house  before  the  rain,  while  the  stage  might  pass  at  any 
moment. 

When  father  and  daughter  continued  to  urge  Captain 
Hill  to  make  room  for  the  fair  traveller  in  the  coach,  while 
those  who  were  seated  in  it  listened  in  silence,  awaiting  the 
issue  of  the  affair,  the  driver  at  length  sprang  from  his  seat, 
and  stepped  to  the  door  amid  thunder  and  lightning. 


TRAVELLING-SCENES.  327 

"  Gentlemen,  couldn't  you  find  a  place  in  there  for  a 
young  lady  ?" 

"  Impossible  !"  cried  one  gentleman,  whose  size  ought  to 
have  entitled  him  to  three  seats.  "We  are  nine  grown 
persons  and  three  children." 

"  Perhaps  one  of  the  gentlemen  would  make  up  his  mind 
to  ride  outside  ?" 

"What,  in  such  a  rain,  Captain?" 

"  The  sun  will  soon  come  out  again,"  replied  the  latter  in 
excuse. 

"  Is  the  young  lady's  journey  so  necessary  ?"  inquired 
Major  Tenney  of  the  farmer. 

The  father  was  ashamed  to  reply  that  his  daughter  was 
only  going  to  visit  a  friend  near  Middlebury,  and  was  too 
honest  to  say  yes.  Already  during  the  negotiation  he  had 
been  heard  to  whisper  to  the  girl :  "  You  can't  go  to  the  pic- 
nic in  that  dress,  at  any  rate  ;  better  give  it  up,  Letty." 
But  the  daughter  replied,  also  in  a  whisper  :  "  I  can  wear 
the  white  one  in  the  box,  Pa  !"  •  He  therefore  merely 
said  :  "  The  young  lady  has  promised  to  come,  and  will  be 
expected." 

"  Couldn't  she  make  the  visit  to-morrow  ?"  asked  the 
Major  again. 

"  No,  sir,  I  must  go  to-day,"  retorted  the  fair  one,  rather 
sharply,  "  and  I  will  go,  if  there  is  any  politeness  to  ladies  in 
this  country." 

The  Captain  assumed  a  sterner  tone. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  remember,  it  is  a  lady  !"  and  a 
loud  clap  of  thunder  enforced  his  words. 

"  It's  true,"  said  one  of  the  passengers,  "  it  seems  actually 
cruel  to  suffer  a  female  to  stand  so  long  in  such  a  rain." 

"  If  she  had  gone  home  when  the  rain  began,"  remarked 
Hubert,  who,  in  his  native  laud,  had  many  a  time  seen  servant- 
girls  sent  out  in  worse  weather — even  such  as  wait  on  stu- 
dents, when  the  storm  was  too  bad  for  the  young  gentlemen 


328  THE   EXILES. 

themselves — "if  she  had  gone  home  at  the  right  time,  she 
would  have  had  dry  clothes  on  by  this  time." 

A  reproving  glance  from  the  young  lady  fell  upon  him. 
She  commenced  silently  to  wring  out  her  flounces,  and  prepare 
to  enter  the  carriage. 

"  Don't  let  it  be  said,"  the  Captain  continued  his  persua- 
sions, "  that  American  gentlemen  were  wanting  in  gallantry." 

"  If  your  carriage  was  only  a  little  wider!"  said  the  stout 
gentleman,  with  a  sigh  ;  "  if  no  one  makes  room,  it's  impossi- 
ble, that's  a  fact." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  it  must  be,"  said  the  Major,  with  a  smile; 
"  Captain,  haven't  you  got  a  buff-jacket  for  me  ?  I  am 
without  an  over-coat."  He  wore  only  a  summer  coat. 

"  At  your  service,  Major,"  cried  the  Captain,  highly 
pleased.  "You,  Major,  you're  the  true  American  gentle- 
man !" 

The  fair  one,  too,  gave  him  a  gracious  smile.  The  Major 
jumped  out,  the  young  lady  got  in,  and  inundated  the  floor, 
in  spite  of  the  above-mentioned  measures  of  precaution,  with 
such  a  flood,  that  the  two  ladies  on  the  back  seat  were 
obliged  to  take  up  their  feet  from  it.  The  band-box  was  suc- 
cessfully disposed  of,  the  two  militia  officers  mounted  the  box, 
and  the  coach  rolled  on  as  if  borne  on  the  wings  of  the 
storm. 

Amidst  such  changing  scenes  our  lovers  safely  reached  their 
destination.  On  the  whole,  they  found  them  exceedingly  enter- 
taining, the  more  that,  though  the  persons  with  whom  chance 
brought  them  in  contact,  were  not  always  individually  inter- 
esting, our  travellers  could  not  overlook  the  characteristic 
nationality  in  most  of  them. 

In  Redfa'eld,  a  country  town  south-west  of  Middlebury,  the 
lawyer  resided  who  was  to  give  them  further  information  with 
regard  to  the  little  farm  in  Woodhill,  which  they  thought  of 
buying.  The  conditions  were  exceedingly  reasonable,  and 
convenient  withal.  The  property  itself,  to  which  they  made 


TRAVELLING-SCENES.  329 

an  excursion,  met  their  wishes.  In  a  few  days  the  business 
was  settled;  a  few  days  more  were  employed  in  making  pur- 
chases for  the  necessary  arrangement  of  the  household,  and 
one  week  after  the  r  rrival  of  the  German  couple  in  Redfield, 
we  find  them  safely  established  on  the  little  farm  in  Wood- 
hill. 


330  THE  EXILES. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

DOME  STIC     AFFAIRS. 

A  ND  so  the  goal  was  reached,  and  our  lovers  had  once 
•"•  more  a  home.  Hubert  was  for  the  first  time  master  of  a 
house — Clotilde  again  at  the  head  of  a  household.  Hand  in 
hand  they  stood  at  the  door,  they  went  about,  and  pointed 
out  to  each  other,  with  beaming  eyes,  each  lovely  opening  in 
the  thick  wood,  each  picturesque  group  of  trees  upon  the 
meadow.  All  this  belonged  to  them — was  their  common 
property!  It  seemed  as  if  even  the  clear  blue  sky,  which 
arched  itself  above  their  heads,  and  the  glorious  sun,  which 
showed  them  everything  in  so  beauteous  a  light,  had  become 
their  own ! 

Clotilde  went  from  room  to  room,  and  found  pleasure  in 
opening  every  drawer  of  the  neat  closets,  which  promised  her 
so  much  domestic  convenience.  Hubert  measured  the  walls, 
to  decide  upon  the  breadth  of  the  bookcases  that  he»intended 
to  have  made,  the  contents  of  which  were  to  shorten  the  long 
winter  for  them.  "  How  happy  we  will  be  here,  dearest 
Hubert !"  cried  Clotilde.  "  And  how  supremely  happy  I  am 
now,  already,  by  your  side,  my  Clotilde  !"  —  And  a  long 
embrace  confirmed  their  words. 

But  now  domestic  arrangements  had  to  be  thought  of. 
The  most  necessary  furniture"  they  had  found  in  the  house.  It 
was  old  and  old-fashioned  ;  square  tables  of  cherry  wood,  in 
every  room  at  least  one  rocking-chair,  with  seat  of  cane  or 
wood  ;  in  one  of  the  rooms  even  a  rocking-settee,  on  which 


DOMESTIC  AFFAIRS.  331 

four  or  five  persons  at  once  could  enjoy  the  national  amuse- 
ment of  rocking.  Clotilde  immediately  had  it  carried  into  the 
wood-house.  On  the  other  hand  a  couple  of  plain  sofas  and 
a  round  tea-table  had  been  ordered  from  Boston,  and  were 
daily  expected,  together  with  a  new  piano  of  Chickering's 
manufacture.  With  beds,  with  the  necessary  house-linen,  and 
with  the  most  indispensable  household-articles,  Clotilde  had 
already  supplied  herself  in  Middlebury  and  Redfield,  before 
she  moved  into  the  house.  Now  she  put  everything  in  order  ; 
it  was  pleasant  to  see  how,  in  busy  activity,  she  regulated 
and  arranged  everything,  how  Hubert  helped  her,  and  inter- 
rupted her  by  a  thousand  caresses,  and  how  he  had  to  suffer 
himself  to  be  laughed  at  for  being  so  awkward,  and  carrying 
a  heap  of  table-linen  as  if  it  had  been  a  trunk,  or  for  having 
put  the  spread  on  the  bed  wrong  side  out.  Hours  flew  by  in 
cordial,  innocent  happiness. 

The  house  had  been  delivered  up  to  them  by  the  last  owner 
rather  out  of  repair,  but  thoroughly  cleaned.  In  the  garden, 
too,  the  most  necessary  spring  work  had  been  performed ;  in 
short,  everything  had  been  done  to  make  it  not  uninhabitable 
for  the  purchaser  in  a  part  of  the  country  where  every  one  must 
himself  raise  what  vegetables  and  field-fruits  he  needs  for 
domestic  purposes.  But  that  was  all.  Hubert  soon  saw  that 
his  new  home  needed  a  helping  hand  everywhere.  The  roof 
of  the  barn  had  sunk,  and  threatened  to  fall  in  entirely  if 
made  to  bear  the  weight  of  next  winter's  snow.  The  grass 
on  the  meadow  was  three  feet  high,  and  the  shrubbery  around 
it  had  grown  to  a  thick  wall. 

With  much  trouble  Hubert  succeeded  in  obtaining,  for  the 
highest  price,  two  stout  day-labourers;  for  all  the  young  men 
in  the  neighbourhood  were  flocking  to  the  West,  and  those  who 
did  remain,  if  obliged  to  work  for  their  living,  were  engaged 
by  the  larger  farmers.  The  day  on  which  Hubert  at  length  suc- 
ceeded in  finding  two — brothers,  who  also  intended  to  go  to 
Oregon,  but  wished  first  to  earn  a  small  capital — who  were 


332  THE   EXILES. 

willing  to  do  his  out-door  work  for  him  for  a  few  weeks,  at 
two  dollars  a  day,  was,  after  searching  so  long  in  vain,  a 
happy  day  for  our  young  couple.  They  thought  with  sadness 
of  the  thousands  in  their  beloved  native  land,  who  crowded 
so  eagerly,  and,  alas,  how  often  in  vain,  to  obtain  a  few 
groschen*  of  daily  wages.  With  a  kind  of  gratitude  they 
remembered  Bryant's  beautiful  poem  to  his  country, "f  "  at 
whose  gates  there  is  Freedom,"  and  which  opens  a  harbour  to 
so  many  poor  castaways  ;  where  there  is 

"  A  shelter  for  the  hunted  head, 
For  the  starved  labourer  toil  and  bread." 

Hubert,  on  the  whole,  succeeded  very  well  with  his  hired 
men  ;  he  was  satisfied  with  steady,  industrious  labour,  without 
expecting  them  to  over-exert  themselves  ;  he  paid  them  punc- 
tually, and  treated  them  with  politeness.  He  himself  joined 
in  their  work  with  a  good  will,  for  with  the  constant  activity 
of  his  mind,  he  delighted  in  a  certain  degree  of  bodily  activity, 
which  he  needed  only  to  regulate  by  his  own  pleasure.  The 
day's  work  over,  he  had  nothing  more  to  do  with  them.  A 
negro  family  who  lived  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  on  which  stood 
the  house — its  only  neighbours — had  agreed  to  give  them  board 
and  lodging. 

A  still  greater  difficulty  was  to  find  hands  for  household 
work.  A  worthy  farmer's  wife  had  taken  it  upon  herself  to 
regulate  all  the  domestic  arrangements  of  the  young  foreign 
couple,  upon  whose  inexperience  she  looked  with  a  sort  of 
pity.  She  baked  bread  enough  to  last  a  week,  supplied  the 
pantry  with  ham,  pork,  and  dried  fish,  fed  the  chickens,  milked 
the  new  cow,  and  made  the  butter.  Mrs.  Norton  was  a  neat, 
active  country  housekeeper,  who  of  course  regarded  herself  as 
Clotilde's  equal  in  every  respect,  and  was  treated  accordingly 

*  A  groschen  is  about  3  cents. 

f  Beginning,  "  Oh,  mother  of  a  mighty  race  1" 


DOMESTIC    AFFAIRS.  333 

!>y  ii;<-  latter.  And  though  she  was  very  well  paid,  according 
to  agreement,  she  yet  mentioned  to  Clotilde  every  day,  in  one 
way  or  another,  that  nothing  but  pity  and  obligingness  had 
induced  her  to  come  to  her  ;  but  that  her  husband  and  chil- 
dren, as  well  as  her  own  household,  could  not  spare  her  much 
longer. 

And  so,  at  the  end  of  a  week,  she  departed,  satisfied  with 
the  thanks  of  the  young  couple,  and  with  the  three  dollars, 
for  which  she  intended  to  buy  her  youngest  daughter  a  new 
straw  bonnet  for  the  Sabbath;  for  the  new  milliner  who  had 
recently  moved  from  Burlington  to  Redfield,  would  not  agree 
to  being  paid  in  eggs  and  potatoes,  because  other  farmers  had 
already  furnished  her  with  more  provisions  than  she,  with  her 
whole  family,  could  consume. 

It  was  now  Clotilde's  task  to  find  a  girl  who  would  remain 
with  her  permanently,  and  who  would  at  least  do  the  coarser 
work  for  her.  But  where  should  she  find  one,  in  a  region 
where  there  is  absolutely  no  serving  class  ?  The  wealthy  farmers 
had  need  of  their  daughters  in  their  own  households,  and,  if 
they  had  only  one  or  two,  or  one  of  them  took  it  into  her 
head  to  go  to  a  factory,  were  obliged  to  supply  the  loss  by 
hiring  a  girl  themselves.  And  even  the  poorer  farmers  mostly 
had  enough  for  their  children.  It  was  only  in  families  where 
there  was  a  large  number  of  unmarried  daughters,  that  it  was 
deemed  desirable  to  have  one  or  the  ottier  live  out.  Clotilde's 
landlady  in  Redfield,  and  her  friends,  had  already  tried  in  vain 
to  procure  some  help  for  her,  for  a  servant  was  out  of  the 
question.  Finally,  they  advised  her  to  drive  round  herself, 
with  her  husband,  to  the  neighbouring  farmers,  and  ask  if  one 
or  the  other  of  them  did  not  know  of  a  capable  girl  who 
could  make  up  her  mind  to  do  their  work  for  money  and  good 
words. 

On  a  fine  afternoon,  therefore,  the  two  started,  in  a  light 
buggy,  on  their  round  of  adventures.  'Hubert  had  recently 
bought  a  horse  and  carriage,  which  the  retired  situation  of 


334  THE    EXILES. 

his  house  made  indispensable,  and  which,  in  a  country  where 
no  one  walks  who  can  ride  in  any  way,  is  more  a  necessity 
than  a  luxury.  The  horse  he  attended  to  himself,  assisted  by 
Eli,  the  coloured  boy. 

Not  only  once,  however,  but  four  or  five  times  did  they  have 
to  start  on  such  an  expedition,  before  they  were  so  fortunate  as 
to  find  what  they  were  in  search  of.  And  they  entered  upon 
them  without  impatience,  always  with  renewed  pleasure.  For 
a  charming,  undulating  country  lay  before  them  on  all  sides, 
traversed  by  few  thoroughfares  of  importance,  but  by  number- 
less winding  wood-roads,  often  so  narrow  and  overgrown,  that 
the  branches  met  close  over  their  heads.  For  half  an  hour 
together  their  way  would  lead  them  along  a  gushing  forest- 
brook,  then  again  on  a  narrow  rocky  ledge,  with  a  steep  wall 
on  one  side,  and  the  blooming  landscape  on  the  other.  Hu- 
bert could  never  exactly  comprehend  the  descriptions  given 
in  answer  to  their  inquiries,  or  had  always  forgotten  the  half 
when  they  came  to  a  decisive  point,  and  it  was  the  question 
whether  to  tarn  to  the  right  or  the  left.  Clotilde  laughingly 
set  him  right,  but  she  enjoyed  driving  here  and  there,  by 
which  she  saw  so  much  of  the  country,  and  became  by  degrees 
so  well  acquainted  with  the  region  surrounding  them. 

They  had,  indeed,  to  keep  their  end  in  view,  and  this  was 
a  difficult  point.  If  they  passed  a  house,  and,  perhaps,  saw 
the  farmer  standing  at  his  door,  Hubert  would  stop  and  in- 
quire, after  a  "  good  day,  sir  :"  "  Do  you  perhaps  know  of  a 
capable  girl,  who  would  be  inclined  to  live  with  us  and  do  our 
work  ?" 

This  question  was  then,  after  the  Yankee  fashion,  answered 
by  another  question.  The  man  would  look  at  the  foreigner, 
whom  he  knew  by  his  speech,  for  a  while,  after  returning  his 
salutation.  Then  he  would  take  up  a  piece  of  wood  from  the 
ground,  pull  a  knife  put  of  his  pocket,  and,  beginning  to  whittle, 
would  ask : 

"  Got  a  large  family  ?" 


DOMESTIC    AFFAIRS.  335 

"  Only  man  and  wife,"  Hubert  would  reply.  "  So  you 
know  one  ?" 

"  Keep  boarders,  perhaps  ?"  "  What  wages  d'ye  give  ?" 
"  Can't  the  young  woman  do  the  work  herself?"  Through 
the  purgatory  of  these  and  other  questions  our  friends  had  to 
go  at  least  ten  times,  and  often  only  to  hear  the  final  answer, 
"  Xo,  I  don't  know  of  none."  Sometimes,  indeed,  they  were 
told,  "  Yes,  at  the  west  end  of  the  village,  or  over  the  bridge, 
a  mile  from  the  Baptist  church,  when  you  turn  to  the  right, 
there's  a  gentleman,  whose  daughters  sometimes  live  out. 
You'll  know  it  by  the  shop.  He's  a  blacksmith.  The  oldest's 
in  Boston.  I  guess  the  second's  at  home  just  now.  She  can 
bake  good  bread,  and  can  do  washing,  too,  as  she's  strong. 
Perhaps  you  can  get  her  ;"  or,  "  Well,  Moses  Goldsmith's  got 
several  daughters  ;  he  might  spare  one,  for  the  old  lady's 
quite  spry  yet.  Perhaps  one  of  the  young  ladies  would  make 
up  her  mind  to  live  with  you  for  a  few  months." 

And  finally,  a  pretty,  skilful  girl  of  twenty-two  did  make 
up  her  mind,  after  hesitating  and  looking  at  her  mother  for  a 
long  time,  expressing  the  fear  that  she  wouldn't  be  able  to 
satisfy  a  '  foreign '  lady,  and  promising  to  think  about  the 
matter.  Persis  Wheeler — so  she  was  called — had  never  yet 
lived  out  herself  ;  but  her  two  older  sisters  were  in  Boston, 
one  as  cook,  and  the  other  as  chambermaid.  The  last  time 
that  they  came  home  on  a  visit,  they  had  worn  the  most  beau- 
tiful dresses,  and  thrown  poor  Persis,  in  her  shilling-calico 
Sunday  dress,  entirely  into  the  shade  !  Susan,  the  cook,  had 
shown  her  a  card-case  of  tortoise-shell,  inlaid  with  mother-of- 
pearl,  that  she  used  to  carry  when  she  had  her  afternoon  and 
went  out,  just  as  the  young  ladies  did  when  they  went  out  to 
make  calls.  It  had  only  cost  her  the  wages  of  two  or  three 
weeks.  And  Mary  Ann,  the  chambermaid,  was  a  church- 
member.  She  had  brought  home  whole  packages  of  tracts  and 
Missionary  Heralds,  ;md  saved  a  large  part  of  her  wages  for 
contributing  as  much  as  she  could  towards  advancing  the 


336  THE    EXILES. 

cause  of  the  Lord,  and  spreading  the  Gospel.  Poor  Persis  had 
neither  money  for  buying  nor  for  giving  away.  When,  there- 
fore, Clotilde  urged  her  kindly,  and  promised  her  a  dollar  and 
a  half,  i.  e.  full  city  wages,  a  week,  she  coi  Id  not  resist  any 
longer.  "  She  only,"  she  said,  "  wanted  tc  get  fixed  a  little 
first ;  the  young  man  there,"  she  added,  pc  nting  to  Hubert, 
"  might  come  for  her  with  the  carriage  day  after  to-morrow." 

Clotilde  replied,  with  a  smile,  that  if  she  :ould  not  find  the 
way  alone,  and  get  her  things  over  herself,  she  would  send  the 
boy  for  her  on  the  day  appointed.  This  wa.idone.  But  Clo- 
tilde was  quite  alarmed,  when  Eli  drove  up  with  a  gaily-dressed 
lady  instead  of  a  cook.  It  was  Persis  Wheeler  in  her  best 
Sunday  clothes,  in  which  she  hoped  to  make  a  better  impres- 
sion than  in  the  Cinderella  costume  in  which  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Hubert  had  surprised  her  the  other  day.  She  wore  a  white 
dress,  and  a  string  of  blue  glass  beads  around  her  throat,  a 
blue  silk  mantilla,  lined  with  yellow  calico,  and  around  her 
straw  bonnet  a  wreath  of  artificial  roses.  Fortunately,  she  had 
brought  along  a  working-dress  in  her  bandbox,  and  in  this 
she  soon  presented  herself  to  Clotilde  ready  for  work. 

The  latter  soon  saw  that  her  mother  had  brought  her 
up  to  it,  and  that  a  quick,  skilful  girl  had  entered  her 
service.  Persis  had  soon  prepared  several  palatable  dishes. 
"  Dinner'll  be  ready  right  away,"  she  said  to  Clotilde.  "  You 
can  just  be  setting  the  table.  Or  shall  the  coloured  boy 
do  it  ?" 

"  He  has  to  attend  to  the  stable,"  replied  her  mistress, 
"and  I  do  not  like  to  employ  him  in  the  house.  I  expect 
this  from  you,  Persis.  You  can  easily  move  the  dinner  from 
the  fire  a  little  until  you  have  set  the  table  and  we  are 
ready." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  girl,  "  and  I'll  set  the  table  for 
three  ?» 

"  For  two,  only,"  Clotilde  directed,  with  a  faint  misgiving, 
and  consequently  not  without  embarrassment. 


DOMESTIC    AFFAIKS.  337 

"  Only  for  two  ?  Isn't  Mr.  Hubert  going  to  dine  at 
home  ?" 

"  Certainly,  he  and  I  are  two." 

The  girl's  lace  lengthened.  Clotilde,  unpleasant  as  it  was, 
thought  it  the  best  way  to  settle  the  matter  at  once. 

"  Persis,"  she  said,  kindly,  "  a  person  that  cooks  or 
does  the  waiting,  can  hardly  eat  at  the  same  table  with 
the  gentleman  or  lady  of  the  house.  It  would  be  en- 
tirely improper  for  her  to  leave  her  seat  so  often  ;  and 
kitchen-work  and  ashes  prevent  the  dress  from  being  as 
neat  as  desirable  for  persons  who  are  only  accustomed  to 
finer  work." 

The  tears  had  come  into  Persis'  eyes.  She  considered  a 
while.  "  Very  well,"  she  said,  "  I  don't  care  much  about  it, 
o"u  the  whole.  Susan  and  Mary  Ann  can't  do  it  either.  I 
thought  people  weren't  so  proud  in  the  country,  but  it's  a  fact, 
you  get  dirty  and  sooty  before  you  know  it.  After  all,  I 
wouldn't  like  to  show  myself  to  Mr.  Hubert  in  this  trim,"  she 
added,  going  to  the  looking-glass,  and  smoothing  her  hair,  "  I'll 
fix  up  after  dinner." 

And  indeed,  after  she  had  washed  the  dishes  and  put  the 
kitchen  to  rights,  she  disappeared  from  the  latter.  "  She  is 
probably  dressing,"  Clotilde  thought,  "  and  at  tea,  for  which 
she  hopes  to  be  sufficiently  adorned,  I  shall  have  a  new  lesson 
to  give."  But  what  was  her  surprise,  when  she  entered  her 
bedroom,  to  find  Persis  sitting  before  her  dressing-table,  mak- 
ing use  of  her  own  brushes  and  combs  ! 

"  I  didn't  bring  my  comb,"  she  said,  in  excuse,  "  mother 
needed  it  for  my  little  sisters  ;  and  my  brush  is  all  worn  out. 
You've  got  such  a  quantity,  big  and  little  !  And  Mr.  Hu- 
bert," she  added,  without  turning  around,  and  continuing  to 
look  in  the  glass,  otherwise  she  must  have  noticed  the  expres- 
sion of  Clotilde's  face,  "  Mr.  Hubert  has  got  his  own  comba 
and  brushes  too,  just  as  if  he  was  living  in  another  house,  and 
wasn't  your  husband  !  Excuse  me,  I  have  taken  some  of 
15 


338  THK   EXILES. 

your  hair-oil,  too  ;  my  hair  is  rather  stiff.  How  do  you 
manage  to  keep  yours  so  smooth  ?  Susan  said " 

But  here  Clotilde  interrupted  her  volubility,  and  this  time 
the  admonition  was  given  in  a  rather  severe  tone.  Persis  wag 
half  offended,  half  ashamed,  cleaned  the  articles  she  had  used, 
carefully,  and  laid  the  less  claim  to  any  further  use  of  them, 
as  her  mistress,  the  same  evening,  sent  Eli  to  the  village  to 
buy  a  comb  and  brush  for  her.  But  she  pouted  all  day,  and 
hardly  acknowledged  the  present,  which  she  looked  upon  as 
the  gift  of  a  sinful  pride. 

Through  similar  struggles,  Clotilde  had  to  fight  her  way 
every  day.  Persis  was  industrious,  willing,  and  able,  but  her 
familiarities  became  by  degrees  insupportable  to  Clotilde,  es- 
pecially as  she  soon  convinced  herself  that  they  originated  not 
so  much  in  an  arrogance  which  she  would  have  been  obliged  to 
repulse,  as  in  a  total  ignorance  and  want  of  acquaintance  with 
worldly  relations.  Neither  Persis,  nor  her  mother,  who,  at 
every  visit,  confirmed  her  in  her  claims,  had  any  idea  that 
there  existed  between  them  and  Clotilde  any  other  than  the 
accidental  difference  that  the  latter  had  a  little  more  money 
than  they,  and  could  pay  for  a  girl.  They  were  themselves 
not  cultivated  enough  to  comprehend  the  immense  chasm 
which  education,  culture,  delicacy  of  feeling,  refinement  of 
manners,  had  laid  between  them  ;  consequently  Mrs.  Wheeler 
and  her  daughter  saw  in  Clotilde's  reproofs  only  the  pride  and 
arrogance  of  the  wealthy,  and  deemed  it  right  to  make  as 
much  opposition  as  possible,  and  to  abase  this  pride.  Mrs. 
Wheeler  liked  to  speak  of  "  the  woman"  with  whom  her 
daughter  Susan  lived  as  cook,  and  of  "  the  young  lady,"  a 
friend  of  Susan's,  who  did  the  chamber-work  in  the  same 
house. 

Clotilde  felt  how  impossible  it  was  for  the  individual  to 
bring  about,  in  a  country  where  no  difference  of  rank  exists, 
where  there  is  legally  but  one  class,  a  general  recognition  of 
that  distinction  in  society,  without  which  no  scientific  culture 


DOMESTIC   AFFAIRS.  339 

can  be  attained,  no  art  can  be  practised  to  perfection,  without 
which  no  grace  of  manners  can  exist,  no  refinement  of  domes- 
tic life  can  take  place — the  d'stinction  between  master  and 
servant,  between  those  who  labour  and  those  who  pay. 
Custom  and  habit  alone  can  affect  a  recognition  of  this 
difference — as  it  has  done,  for  instance,  in  all  the  large 
American  cities — and  draw  the  delicate  limit,  beyond  which 
it  may  not  extend,  without  degenerating  into  exclusiveness 
and  a  spirit  of  caste. 

This  unpleasant  connection  at  length  came  to  a  rupture, 
when,  one  evening,  Persis  deemed  herself  entirely  too  much 
offended.  The  lawyer  who  had  acted  in  the  sale  of  the  farm, 
had  yet  a  little  business  to  settle  with  Hubert,  and  drove  up 
to  the  house  one  afternoon.  He  was  a  lively,  agreeable 
man,  whom  Clotilde  politely  invited  to  stay  to  tea.  He  was 
the  first  guest  whom  they  were  to  entertain  here.  Ptrsis 
came  in  with  the  tea-things,  neatly  dressed  ;  she  bowed  to  the 
stranger,  and  he  returned  her  salutation.  Hubert  continued 
the  conversation,  and  although  the  girl  busied  herself  about 
the  tea-table  for  some  time,  no  further  notice  was  taken  of  her. 

But  when  Clotilde,  after  tea,  went  into  the  kitchen,  she 
found  Persis  in  tears,  with  her  bundle  and  bandbox  beside 
her.  "  Mrs.  Hubert,"  she  said,  with  offended  dignity,  "  I'm 
going  away  to-morrow  morning.  You  must  let  Eli  take  me 
home.  My  week  is  just  out.  I  can't  stand  such  treatment 
any  longer  !" 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?"  asked  Clotilde,  in  surprise.  "  What 
has  happened  ?" 

"  Mrs.  Hubert,  wherever  I've  been,  I've  always  been  intro- 
duced. But  neither  you  nor  Mr.  Hubert  think  it  worth  while 
to  introduce  me.  How  can  Squ're  Powers  know  whom  he's 
got  before  him,  if  you  don't  introduce  me  to  him  as  M.ss 
Wheeler  ?  How  can  he  say  a  word  to  me,  when  he  don't 
know  how  to  ad  Iress  me  ?  ,  I  know  his  son  Nat  ;  I  danced 
with  him  twice  at  John  Thomson's  qu.ltmg.  And  now,  what 


340  THE   EXILES. 

must  he  think  of  me  ?  Mustn't  Nat  believe  you  despise  me, 
when  his  father  tells  him  he  saw  me  here,  and  you  didn't 
even  introduce  me  to  him  ?" 

Clotilde,  tired  of  the  matter  long  ago,  suffered  the 
offended  fair  one  to  go.  She  made  a  few  more  attempts  to 
obtain  help,  but  they  all  turned  out  worse  than  the  first. 
For  Persis  was  at  least  good-natured,  able,  and  neat,  but 
others  were  lazy,  awkward,  and  dirty.  Now  and  then  they 
met  with  an  Irishwoman,  but  she  seemed  to  belong  to  the 
dregs  of  her  people,  and  was  entirely  useless.  Or  an  Ameri- 
can vagabond  came  along,  active  and  skilful  ;  but  after  a 
short  trial,  she  proved  to  be  a  drunkard,  and  soon  had 
to  be  dismissed.  Of  coloured  people  there  were  but  few 
in  this  part  of  the  country,  and  those  mostly  of  the  lowest 
class. 

We  will  not  tire  our  readers  with  the  domestic  scenes 
which  for  some  months  alloyed  the  happiness  of  our  friends, 
and  which  had  an  influence  on  their  spirits  from  which  no 
philosophy  could  save  them.  They  happened  to  have  settled 
in  a  part  of  the  country  where  the  difficulty  of  obtaining 
servants  had  not  yet  been  lessened  by  the  influx  of  emi- 
grants. Clotilde  began  to  understand  what  it  is  that  leads 
so  many  American  families  to  a  boarding-house,  and  finally 
resolved  to  do  without  a  female  servant. 

For  this  purpose  they  were  obliged,  indeed,  to  simplify 
their  household  as  much  as  possible.  Eli's  mother,  the  negro 
woman,  agreed  to  do  their  washing.  The  same  morning  that 
she  brought  home  the  clothes,  beautifully  ironed,  she  accom- 
plished a  thorough  cleaning  of  the  whole  house;  in  the  inter- 
val, Clotilde  herself  attended  to  the  sweeping  and  dusting  of 
the  few  rooms  which  she  and  Hubert  inhabited.  She  herself 
cooked  a  single,  simple  dish  for  dinner.  Eli  brought  her 
wood  and  water,  and  milked  the  cow.  Once  in  four  weeks 
Hubert  drove  her  to  Redfield,  to  make  the  necessary  purchases, 
and  we  must  observe  that  it  was  her  principle  to  manufac- 


DOMESTIC   AFFAIRS.  341 

ture  nothing  herself  which  she  could  buy  ready-made,  or  have 
made  by  paid  hands.  For  the  American  proverb,  "Time  is 
money,"  had  long  been  familiar  to  her  under  the  slightly 
different  form  of  "  Gain  of  time  is  the  chief  gain."  She  had, 
therefore,  with  all  her  necessary  sweeping,  sewing,  cooking, 
baking,  and  making  butter,  generally  a  few  evening-hours 
left  for  reading  and  music.  There  were,  to  be  sure,  times 
in  her  domestic  life,  when  she  did  not  fare  so  well ;  when  the 
new  music  ordered  from  Boston  lay  for  days  unopened  on 
the  piano,  and  the  books  remained  untouched ;  when  a 
sorrowful  glance  fell  upon  the  unarranged  herbarium  which 
she  had  collected  on  her  walks  through  this  foreign  wilder- 
ness, so  rich  in  flowers,  when  she  still  had  a  cook  at  home 
to  prepare  her  dinner  for  her  ;  times,  when  a  (fuiet  sigh 
carried  her  back  to  the  civilized  regions  for  which  she  had 
been  educated,  and  where  she  had  been  spared  these  labours, 
which  a  paid  servant  could  have  performed  as  well  as  she, 
if  not  better. 

And  how  ? — our  female  readers  will  ask — was  this  all  ? 
Had  Clotilde,  in  her  married  and  domestic  life,  only  labour, 
only  a  little  vexation.  Had  she  no  sufferings?  Did  Hu- 
bert remain  what  he  was  at  first,  the  tender,  considerate, 
reverencing  husband  ?  Did  he  never  lose  patience  when  the 
dinner  had  not  succeeded  under  her  unpractised  hand  ?  Did 
it  not  put  him  out  of  humour  that  her  domestic  cares  pre- 
vented her  from  being  constantly  the  chetring  companion, 
for  which  man,  in  his  pride,  destines  his  wife  ?  When  she 
wept,  did  he  not  think  that  her  tears  were  directed  against 
himself,  did  he  not  whistle,  and  affect  indifference  ?  When 
she  asked  him  for  money,  was  he  not  surprised  that  the 
money  which  he  had  last  given  her  was  already  used  up  ? 
And  when  she  spoke  to  him  of  her  friends,  of  the  memories 
of  her  youth,  of  her  inner  life,  did  he  never,  in  absence  of 
mind,  interrupt  her  with  an  unimportant  question,  or  take 
out  his  watch,  because  he  remembered  that  he  had  forgotten 


342  THE   EXILES. 

to  wind  it  up,  and  thus  unconsciously  wound  the  tenderest 
part  of  her  being  ? 

No  1  all  this  Hubert  did  not  do.  For  he  not  only  loved 
and  honoured  Clotilde  with  the  whole  strength  of  his  soul  ; 
he  also  possessed,  together  with  a  manly  spirit,  delicacy  and 
tenderness  of  feeling,  and  had  perhaps  as  little  selfishness  as 
it  is  possible  for  a  man  to  have.  Yet  we  would  not  say  by 
this,  that  Clotilde  did  not  also  have  her  little  matrimonial 
trials.  Hubert's  dilatory  habits  naturally  created  many 
disturbances  in  the  household.  Many  a  necessary  labour 
remained  unperformed.  Not  that  he  disliked  it,  he  had 
only  forgotten  it,  until  the  time  had  passed  when  it  ought  to 
have  been  done.  Often,  when  Clotilde,  with  great  trouble, 
had  prepared  a  palatable  meal  for  him — for  she  herself 
would  have  preferred  a  simple  piece  of  bread  and  butter  to 
eating  of  a  dish  cooked  by  her  own  hands — he  had  forgotten 
the  hour  entirely  while  absorbed  in  his  work  ;  or  had  perhaps 
taken  up  a  book  a  few  minutes  before,  without  the  least 
regard  to  the  dinner-hour  fixed  by  himself,  and,  sauntering 
far  into  the  wood,  thrown  himself  down  under  a  tree. 
There  he  would  lie,  lost  in  his  book,  until  hunger  called 
him  back  to  reality,  while  the  meal  prepared  with  so  much 
trouble  was  burnt  on  the  fire  at  home,  or,  if  set  aside,  grew 
cold. 

He  called  himself  happy,  and  he  was  so,  in  his  perfect 
freedom  aud  in  the  possession  of  Clotilde.  But  just  she 
felt  keenly,  in  his  stead,  how  far  he  was,  here,  from  the 
sphere  in  which  he  belonged.  In  the  cultivated  world, 
indeed,  in  any  city  society,  his  fine  mind  and  extensive 
information  would  have  secured  to  him  a  high  position  in  the 
regard  of  his  associates.  Bat  the  farmers  of  the  neighbour- 
hood had,  on  the  contrary,  rather  a  small  opinion  of  him, 
because  he  refrained  from  all  participation  in  public  affairs, 
and  manifested  but  little  ability  for  money-making,  or  for 
other  outward  activity.  "An  idler,"  they  said  to  each  other, 


DOMESTIC   AFFAIRS.  343 

shrugging  their  shoulders,  "  a  dreamer,  a  German  bookworm  1 
It's  a  pity  for  the  handsome  wife,  she  knows  how  to  get 
along  ;  he  ought  to  have  been  a  schoolmaster  1" 

But  what  made  Hubert's  neighbours  particularly  distrust- 
ful, was  that  he  never  went  to  church,  and  was,  therefore,  in 
their  opinion,  an  infidel.  This  circumstance  did  not,  indeed, 
awaken  the  least  doubt  as  to  his  being  an  honest  and 
honourable  man,  for  even  the  uneducated  American  makes, 
with  remarkable  acuteness,  a  distinction  between  a  man's 
spiritual  and  civil  character,  and  the  darkest  puritanic 
prejudices  will  never  disparage  the  latter.  But  this  fact 
would  have  been  enough  to  make  his  neighbours  avoid  him, 
even  if  he  himself  had  not  lived  so  retired  a  life. 

Clotilde,  on  the  other  hand,  had  immediately  entered 
into  a  sort  of  neighbourly  intercourse  with  the  females  of 
the  village.  She  did  not  do  this  exactly  from  inclination, 
but  from  a  certain  healthy  policy  of  the  heart.  Wherever 
she  went,  her  amiable  and  dignified  manner  won  her  friends, 
even  though — and  to  this  she  by  no  means  objected — the 
latter  quality,  and  particularly  the  proud  reserve  which  the 
country-people  entertained  towards  her  as  "  a  foreigner," 
excluded  all  familiarity. 

For  her,  too,  the  Congregational  church  of  the  village 
had  almost  as  little  attraction  as  the  still  more  distant 
Methodist  meeting-house,  which  was  frequented  mostly  by 
blacks,  and  where  the  stage-driver  who  had  brought  them 
to  Woodhill  preached  three  times  every  Sunday. 

The  Congregational  minister,  however,  was  a  scholar,  a 
classmate  of  Mr.  Spooner.  His  sermon,  meagre,  stern  and 
dry,  like  himself,  usually  lasted  an  hour  and  a  half:  the 
exposition  quarter  of  an  hour ;  the  arguments,  in  strictly 
logical  arrangement,  and  carried  on  with  firstly,  secondly, 
thirdly,  often  to  ninthly  and  tenthly,  occupied  a  full  hour, 
and  the  attentive  audience  might  be  thankful  if  the  inference 
and  application  were  crowded  together  into>  another  quarter 


344  THE   EXILES. 

of  an  hour.  The  short  prayer  lasted  quite  as  long  as  the 
inference,  but  the  long  one  often  seemed  to  Clotilde  even 
longer  than  the  sermon.  In  this  prayer,  a  cold,  dogmatical 
composition,  the  minister  argued  with  God,  instead  of  with 
his  audience.  Before  Clotilde  had  become  accustomed  to 
the  form  of  the  service,  she  sometimes  thought  it  was  a 
second  sermon,  spoken  with  closed  eyes.  And  yet  she  saw 
plainly  that  that  which  was  unpleasant  to  her,  or  left  her 
cold,  edified  others,  and  filled  the  congregation,  to  whom 
the  faintest  shade  of  sentimentality  would  have  been  repul- 
sive, with  devotion  and  admiration. 

The  singing  was  just  as  little  calculated  to  attract  her, 
even  though  music  seemed  to  her  the  most  natural  language 
in  which  the  soul  can  rise  to  God.  The  stern  spirit  of  the 
Puritans,  which  forbade  all  sensual  attractions,  pronounced 
the  organ,  that  "kist  o'  whistles,"  a  sinful  plaything  of  the 
devil,  and  banished  it  from  their  churches;  but  time  and  a 
growing  love  of  art  has  long  since  re-introduced  it  in  cities 
and  larger  towns.  But  our  village,  like  many  others,  had  not 
been  able  to  go  to  the  expense  of  buying  one,  or  perhaps 
had  not  thought  it  important  enough.  Nor  was  the  con- 
gregation large  enough  to  have  a  choir  and  a  leader.  But 
the  minister  would  read  two  verses  of  a  well-known  hymn — 
carefully  choosing  one  which  could  be  sung  to  a  familiar 
tune,  and  give  the  appropriate  key.  Sometimes  there 
would  be  a  stranger  in  the  pulpit,  who,  gifted  with  a  voice, 
would  raise  the  tune  himself,  and  this  had  for  Clotilde  some- 
thing solemn  and  patriarchal.  But  usually,  after  a  pause, 
that  was  filled  by  hemming  and  hawing,  a  single  male  or 
female  voice  would  rise  up  from  some  pew,  which  would  soon 
be  joined  by  another,  perhaps  from  the  opposite  end  of  the 
house,  until,  by  degrees,  there  was  a  small,  thin  concert  of 
voices.  In  the  next  two  lines  there  would  be  an  improve- 
ment, and  in  the  last  verse  of  the  hymn  half  the  congrega- 
tion would  join. 


DOMESTIC   AFFAIRS.  345 

Notwithstanding  that  all  this  gave  Clotilde  little  satisfac- 
tion, she  yet  felt  a  want  of  being  pious  with  the  pious.  In 
fine  weather  she  liked  to  go,  in  the  cool  of  the  morning, 
down  the  hill,  and  along  the  road  to  the  village,  in  the 
centre  of  which  stood  the  church.  It  was  a  walk  of  more 
than  two  hours  ;  Hubert  was  to  come  for  her,  and  be  at  the 
church  door  with  the  horse  and  carriage  at  twelve  o'clock. 
For  they  had  to  let  Eli  go  home  to  his  parents  on  Sunday, 
who  were  strictly  pious,  and  with  whom  he  spent  two-thirds 
of  the  day  at  the  Methodist  church.  Now  it  often  hap- 
pened that  Hubert  came  for  his  wife  at  the  right  time  ;  but 
just  as  often,  that  he  wished  first  to  find  out  a  new  way, 
and  lost  himself  in  the  wood,  or  got  belated  in  some  other 
way;  for  his  watch,  though  in  his  pocket,  being  rarely  wound 
up,  he  never  knew  the  time  of  day,  and  seemed  incapable  of 
any  calculation. 

Clotilde,  in  such  cases,  had  to  make  up  her  mind  to  walk 
home  the  long  distance  in  the  noonday-sun.  But  she  was 
generally  spared  this  by  the  farmers  of  her  acquaintance. 
When  she  was  seen  coming  out  of  the  church  and  looking 
round  in  vain  for  her  carriage,  while  her  female  acquaint- 
ances were  standing  around  in  groups,  with  much  to  say  to 
each  other,  she  was  mostly  accosted  by  one  or  the  other 
farmer,  who  lived  too  far  to  go  home  between  the  services, 
aud  who  offered  to  take  her  up  the  hill,  or  at  least  part  of  the 
way.  She  generally  gladly  accepted  the  proposal,  and  while 
her  escort's  family  remained  in  their  pew,  eating  the  apples, 
gingerbread,  or  other  simple  fare  with  which  they  had  pro- 
vided themselves,  she  soon,  by  asking  information  on  one 
point  or  another,  became  absorbed  in  a  kindly  conversation 
with  the  good  man  himself.  For  she  had  a  way  of  over- 
coming the  tough,  mistrustful  diffidence  of  the  American 
countryman,  as  well  as  turning  off  his  curiosity  and  love  of 
inquiry.  In  this  manner  she  gained  much  useful  information 
about  local  relations  or  domestic  affairs,  and  never  parted 
15* 


340  THE   EXILES. 

from  her  companion  without  having  made  the  most  favour- 
able impression,  and  cordially  expressing  her  thanks. 

She  was,  of  course,  the  first  at  home,  and  had  time  to 
prepare  the  dinner,  not  always  without  repressing  a  tear  of 
vexation,  and  when  Hubert  at  length  arrived,  with  many 
excuses,  indeed,  yet  with  some  surprise  at  her  having  been 
already  gone,  and  the  question  why  she  had  not  waited  for 
him,  she  sometimes  received  him  with  a  forced  smile,  but 
rarely  only — for  she  knew  that  man  cannot  throw  off  his 
individuality — with  a  slight  reproach. 

But  these  were  only  light  clouds  on  the  heaven  of  their 
love.  It  could  be  truly  said  that  they  were  happy  ;  not  the 
happiness  which  is  but  a  short,  blissful  dream,  but  such  as 
can  alone  be  lasting.  And  they  grew  more  and  more  so 
every  day,  and  would  cast  a  cheerful,  hopeful  glance  into 
the  future.  Hubert  had  little  left  to  wish  for  in  Clotilde  ; 
she,  on  the  other  hand,  had  recognised  in  him  the  ennobled, 
refined  image  of  his  father,  and  kept  in  view  the  warning 
example  of  Adelgunda,  whose  pedantic  virtues  had  once 
made  home  disagreeable  to  her  undisciplined  partner.  More 
and  more  the  loving  husband  and  wife  grew  into  each  other, 
as  it  were;  the  little  angles,  of  which  every  truthful  charac- 
ter has  more  or  less,  wore  off  imperceptibly,  or  those  of  the 
one  fitted  wonderfully  into  the  gaps  of  the  other,  so  that 
this  marriage  was  in  the  best  way  to  form  that  noble,  har- 
monious whole,  which  alone  can  realize  the  Creator's  idea 
of  man  and  wife. 

One  circumstance,  in  particular,  contributed  to  throw  a 
pleasing  light  upon  their  domestic  life  ;  this  was  the  harmony 
in  their  inward  interests.  It  is  certainly  not  essential  to 
matrimonial  happiness,  that  two  beings  who  love  each  other, 
should  be  alike  in  their  characters,  that  both  should  be 
gentle,  or  decided,  or  energetic,  or  patient.  On  the  con- 
trary, one  ought  to  supply  the  other's  deficiencies,  one  make 
up  for  the  other's  faults,  and  thus  form  an  entire  whole. 


DOMESTIC   AFFAIRS.  347 

But  like  inclinations,  similar  interests,  particularly  if  they 
give  rise  to  mutual  occupations,  can  only  strengthen  the 
matrimonial  tie. 

Music,  in  particular,  is  a  delightful  bond  of  this  kind ; 
for  of  all  arts  it  is  the  most  social  one.  But  also  poetry, 
and  mutual  scientific  studies,  draw  two  souls  closer  together. 
Happy  the  wife  who  can  be  her  husband's  assistant  in  them  ! 
Happy  the  man  whose  mind  can  be  mirrored,  in  faithful  and 
purified  reflection,  in  that  of  his  wife  ! 

True,  in  most  cases,  there  will  be  times  when  this 
happiness  does  not  find  full  acknowledgment  with  the 
husband.  The  penetration  and  superior  excitability  of  an 
intellectual  woman,  will  at  times  be  inconvenient  and  bur- 
densome even  to  men  of  distinguished  mind.  There  are 
deeply  learned,  even  highly  intellectual  men,  who,  while  they 
devote  the  greater  part  of  the  day  to  their  studies,  wish 
only  to  find  relaxation  from  their  mental  labours  in  the  in- 
tercourse with  their  wives.  When  they  come  into  the  room 
of  the  latter  for  half  an  hour,  as  if  ,to  rest  from  thinking, 
and,  stretching  themselves  on  the  sofa,  ask  after  the  news, 
or  the  like,  they  care  much  more  for  some  little  amusing 
gossip,  or  pleasant  every-day  talk,  be  it  ever  so  shallow,  than 
for  an  exchange  of  ideas,  or  similar  communications  from 
the  regions  of  the  soul.  What  an  evening  game  of  cards, 
or  something  of  the  kind,  is  to  many,  even  distinguished  men 
— a  relaxation  by  complete  repose  of  the  mental  powers,  a 
refreshment  by  the  lulling  to  sleep  of  the  higher  faculties 
during  a  moderate  use  of  the  lower  ones — others  find  in  a 
conversation  with  their  wives. 

How  different,  and  how  much  nobler,  was  the  relation  be- 
tween Hubert  and  Clotilde!  When  their  daily  work  was  ended, 
when  he  had  accomplished  his  task  and  she  had  arranged 
her  domestic  affairs,  how  pleasantly  did  they  sit  down  toge- 
ther to  intellectual  intercourse  and  common  occupations!  The 
latter  they  saved  particularly  for  the  long  winter  evenings  to 


848  •  .f    THE   EXILES. 

which  they  had  to  look  forward.  They  intended  to  explore 
together  the  realm,  new  to  them,  of  young  American  litera- 
ture, for  which  purpose  a  long  row  of  elegant  volumes  stood  in 
readiness.  They  had  made  the  plan,  when  they  should  have 
familiarized  themselves  with  it,  to  lay  it  open  also  to  their 
countrymen,  and  already  practised  the  translation  of  "Exam- 
ples." It  was  a  pleasing  contrast,  when  both,  each  separately, 
undertook  the  translation  of  the  same  poem,  and  then  com- 
pared the  two  versions  with  each  other,  and  often  combined 
them.  Clotilde  succeeded  particularly  well  in  these  attempts, 
although  Hubert  doubtless  possessed  a  more  poetic  spirit 
than  she.  For  woman's  more  pliable  mind  seems  better 
adapted  to  that  kind  of  reproduction  which  is  the  true 
essence  of  a  poetical  translation,  than  the  more  independent 
productive  power  of  man. 


THE   VISIT.  349 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE     VISIT. 


our  young  couple  looked  forward  without  fear  to  the 
-  long,  cold  winter  that  was  soon  to  enter  their  wilderness, 
and  cover  wood  and  meadow  for  them  with  an  impenetrable 
veil  of  snow.  The  wide  massive  grates  in  all  the  rooms 
looked  as  if  winter  could  not  be  keenly  felt  in  their  vicinity  ; 
and  the  two  hired  men,  when  they  cleared  the  woods  around, 
had  heaped  up  such  immeasurable  quantities  of  wood  —  which 
it  was  Hubert's  daily  morning  occupation  to  split  for  use  —  that 
Clotilde  jestingly  hinted  at  the  possibility  of  melting  a  small 
Polar  sea  with  it. 

But  it  was  not  yet  time  for  that.  The  leaves  were  just 
beginning  to  fall;  the  beach  put  on  its  yellow-spotted  cloak, 
the  maple  and  mountain-ash  arrayed  themselves  in  their 
glorious  crimson  and  purple  dresses,  which,  in  their  thousand 
shades,  when  the  morning  or  evening-sun  shone  through  them, 
cast  a  magic  glow  over  the  whole  country  around,  that  pre- 
sented, in  the  reflection,  an  unparalleled  richness  of  colouring. 
Plainly  visible  among  the  thinned  foliage,  the  gold-brown 
robin  was  seen  flitting  from  branch  to  branch  ;  the  finch, 
dear  little  autumn  bird,  hopped  about  in  search  of  the  wild 
cherry,  mingling  its  ylaintive  chirps  with  the  more  cheerful 
warbling  of  the  blue-bird.  In  the  orchard  on  one  side  of  the 
house,  the  branches  were  nearly  breaking  with  their  cumbrous 
weight  of  red  and  yellow  apples,  and  the  grass  under  the 
trees  was  covered  with  a  layer  of  fruit.  In  bright,  never- 


350  THE    EXILES. 

dimmed  clearness,  the  arch  of  heaven  expanded  itself  above 
the  serenely  serious  landscape ;  the  air  was  scented  with  the 
fragrance  of  the  autumn  fruit,  full  of  vital  energy,  mild  with- 
out being  too  soft,  fresh  without  being  sharp.  The  whole 
beauteous  peculiarity  of  atmosphere  and  colouring  of  an 
American  autumn,  bestowed  upon  our  lovers,  for  the  first  time 
in  many  years,  a  healthy,  satisfied  consciousness  of  their 
existence. 

One  thing  troubled  Clotilde.  She  had  never  heard  from 
the  Castletons  again  since  Sarah's  departure.  She  had  received 
no  answer  either  from  Alonzo  or  Virginia.  The  great  ex- 
penses which  she  and  Hubert  had  incurred  in  the  purchase  and 
arrangement  of  their  new  home,  had  made  it  impossible  for 
her  to  discharge  her  debt  to  Alonzo  until  quite  recently.  She 
had  at  length  succeeded  in  saving  a  certain  sum.  She  had 
transmitted  it  to  Alonzo  a  short  time  before,  accompanied  by 
a  few  delicate,  cordial  words  of  thanks,  and  the  urgent  en- 
treaty to  write  to  her;  but  this  communication,  too,  he  had 
not  answered,  although  he  knew  now  where  she  was,  and 
where  she  had  found  a  home.  She  was  now  in  daily,  anxious 
expectation  of  a  letter. 

On  the  other  hand,  both  had  had  frequent  intelligence 
from  their  German  friends;  first  their  expressions  of  deep  pity, 
and  then  their  joyful  congratulations  on  their  regained  happi- 
ness. From  her  former  guardian  alone,  Clotilde  had  not 
received  a  line.  The  friend  whom  we  have  mentioned  before 
had  written  to  her  concerning  him,  that  he  had  extended  his 
travels  farther  and  farther,  and  commissioned  his  agent  not  to 
forward  letters  which  arrived  for  him,  from  place  to  place, 
but  to  send  them  all  to  England,  whither  he  intended  to  go 
by  water  from  some  Asiatic  port;  which,  she  had  forgotten. 
"  It  seems  as  if,"  she  wrote,  "  at  variance  as  he  is  with  the 
spirit  of  the  age,  and  deprived  of  the  sole  hope  of  his  heart, 
he  wished  to  forget  Europe  entirely  for  some  years.  What 
influence,"  she  added,  in  jest,  "  do  you  think  his  acquaintance 


THE    VISIT.  351 

with  the  state  of  things  ia  Asia  will  have  on  his  political 
system  ?  Perhaps  he  will  thus  learn  to  recognise  that  the 
system  of  progress,  which  he  disliked  so  much,  has  its  good 
points,  too." 

One  clear,  sunny  afternoon,  after  an  early  dinner  was 
despatched,  and  the  necessary  household  duties  attended  to, 
Clotilde  went  down  to  the  village  to  make  some  necessary 
purchases,  and  ask  the  landlady  of  the  inn,  a  kind,  sensible 
woman,  whose  acquaintance  she  had  made  at  church,  for  some 
advice,  as  she  had  frequently  done  before.  But  this  time  the 
matter  was  of  special  importance.  She  walked  along  silently, 
lost  in  thought.  A  deep,  grateful,  subdued  feeling  of  happi- 
ness was  in  her  soul.  That  morning  she  had  revealed  to  her 
beloved  husband  a  sweet  secret,  had  seen  him  gaze  at  her  in 
delight,  and  felt  his  fervent  pressure  of  redoubled  love  as  he 
drew  her  to  his  breast.  Various  arrangements  had  to  be 
made  before  the  winter  set  in.  She  had  ordered  Eli,  who 
was  still  at  work,  to  meet  her  with  the  carriage,  on  her  re- 
turn at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  so  as  to  relieve  her  of  part  of  the 
way  back.  '  : : 

Mrs.  Curtis — this  was  the  landlady's  name — kindly  gave 
all  the  required  information,  and  was  ready  for  advice  and 
aid  at  all  times.  When  the  business  was  ended,  and  Clotilde 
rose  to  go,  she  said  :  "  I'd  beg  you  to  stay  and  take  supper 
with  us,  but  I  guess  your  good  husband  is  going  to  have  some 
company  himself,  and  I  suppose  you'll  have  to  be  home  to  get 
tea  ready." 

"Thank  you,"  replied  Clotilde,  "but  I  must  indeed. go 
home  to  take  care  of  my  husband.  Company  we  never  have 
in  our  hermitage." 

"  I  calculate  you  will  to-day,  though,"  said  the  landlady. 
"Three  gentlemen  stopped  here,  who  asked  for  Mr.  Hu- 
bert ;  and  wanted  to  know  where  he  lived,  and  if  they  could 
get  a  horse  and  buggy.  They  came  from  Redfield  this  fore- 


352  THE    EXILES. 

"  They  may  be  some  New-York  acquaintances  of  Hubert's," 
remarked  Clotilde;  "were  they  Germans  ?" 

"  They  weren't  foreigners.  They  spoke  good  English, 
though  it  did  sound  rather  different  from  what  we  speak  here. 
I'll  just  tell  you,  Mrs.  Hubert,  as  I  see  they  ain't  near  friends 
of  yours,  I  didn't  like  the  gentlemen,  a  bit.  One  of  them's 
well  enough,  a  pretty,  smart  young  fellow;  but  he  didn't  go 
along,  he's  sitting  upstairs,  and  reading.  He  went  to  the  door 
with  the  others  when  they  went  to  get  in  the  wagon,  and 
I  heard  him  say  myself,  '  You  know  you  can  count  upon  me, 
but  I'd  much  rather  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  matter.' 
I  believe  he's  a  student  from  Cambridge,  that's  just 
graduated." 

"  Well,  and  the  two  others  ?" 

"  I  fancy  they're  a  couple  of  wild  fellows,"  answered  Mrs. 
Curtis.  "  One  of  them,  to  be  sure,  I  can't  complain  of.  He 
don't  say  a  word,  but  he  looks  so  glum  and  melancholy, 
and  there's  such  an  unnatural,  strange  fire  in  his  eyes.  If  I 
had  to  live  with  that  one,  I  know  I'd  be  afraid  of  him.  I 
shouldn't  be  surprised  if  he'd  go  to  the  lunatic  asylum  one  of 
these  days.  But  the  other  one  I  He's  a  blustering  fellow  ! 
And  he  carries  a  horsewhip  in  his  hand,  and  keeps  flourishing 
it,  and  swearing  in  the  most  awful  way!  I  sent  my  Lizzy 
in  the  room  to  wait  on  the  gentlemen  at  dinner,  if  they 
wanted  anything.  And  she  heard  plainly  how  he  said  to  the 
silent,  melancholy  one  :  Cousin,  if  I  hadn't  given  you  my 
word,  all  these  d Yankees  taken  together,  wouldn't  pro- 
tect him  from  the  horsewhipping  he  deserves!" 

"  Whom  was  he  talking  about  ?"  inquired  Clotilde. 

"  That  Lizzy  couldn't  find  out,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Curtis.  "  The 
child  was  sitting  quietly  in  her  corner  and  reading  the  paper, 
that  is,  she  pretended  to,  for  I've  trained  my  girls  always  to  pay 
attention  and  see  if  the  folks  want  any  thing;  for  it  wouldn't 
do  my  house  much  honour,  if  the  guests  weren't  well  attended 
to,  and  I'd  like  to  hear  any  one  say  that  my  girls  don't  know 


THE   VISIT.  353 

how  to  wait  on  the  table  just  as  well  as  all  the  black  waiters 
in  the  cities  taken  together.  But  young  ladies  can't  stand 
up  like  waiters,  and  so  I  guess,  when  the  pies  had  been  brought 
in,  the  three  gentlemen  thought  she  was  deep  in  the  paper, 
and  couldn't  hear  nor  see  nothing.  For  they  made  all  sorts 
of  fun  of  the  water-cure  establishment,  as  they  called  it,  that 
they'd  come  to.  For  you  see,  Mrs.  Hubert,  they'd  taken 
offence  at  not  getting  any  wine,  because  our  house  is  a  tem- 
perance-house, and  the  bar-room  is  shut  up  ever  since  Mr. 
Curtis  became  a  Christian.  The  melancholy  one  didn't  say 
anything,  but  he  looked  as  if  he'd  rather  drink  blood  than 
wine ;  but  the  other  two  first  made  a  fuss,  and  when  they  saw 
that  didn't  do  any  good,  they  began  to  run  down  the  good 
cause  among  themselves,  and  made  fun  of  the  temperance 
societies." 

"  Well,"  Clotilde  finally  interrupted  this  unceasing  flow 
of  words,  "  and  you  think  these  troublesome  guests  are  coming 
to  us  ?" 

"  They  wanted  a  horse  and  wagon,"  replied  the  landlady, 
"but  you  see  Mr.  Curtis,  who  didn't  like  them  any  better 
than  I  did,  told  the  one  with  the  horsewhip  he  wanted  his 
wagon  himself  to-day.  But  I  believe  they  got  Mike  Walker's 
horse  and  chaise,  for  since  we've  been  talking,  I  saw  it  going 
by,  and  Mr.  Walker's  little  boy  driving.  If  I  ain't  very  much 
mistaken  the  two  gentlemen  were  inside." 

"  Then  they  probably  have  some  business  with  Hubert," 
observed  Clotilde,  and  took  her  departure.  On  her  way 
home  she  tried  to  conjecture  what  it  might  be.  A  dim  feeling 
of  dread  crept  upon  her.  "  Perhaps  they  are  creditors  of 
the  former  owner,"  she  thought,  "  who  have  still  some  claims 
on  the  property.  It  may  be,  too,  that  the  woman  misunder- 
stood the  name.  It  is  also  possible  that  they  are  slight 
acquaintances  of  Hubert's  from  New  York,  for  whom  the 
opportunity  of  a  visit,  on  a  journey  through  the  country,  is 
a  welcome  event." 


354  THE   EXILES. 

Soon,  however,  she  forgot  the  matter  entirely,  and, 
absorbed  in  other  thoughts,  reached  the  foot  of  the  hill, 
where  Eli  was  awaiting  her  with  the  carriage.  She  asked 
if  any  company  had  come  to  the  house,  or  if  he  had  met  a 
chaise  with  two  gentlemen.  Eli  denied  both,  but  thought  it 
possible  that  they  had  passed  unnoticed  by  him,  while  he  had 
stopped  at  his  mother's,  to  deliver  a  message  with  which 
missus  had  charged  him. 

Hubert  had  worked  in  the  garden,  after  Clotilde  left  him. 
His  heart,  too,  beat  more  joyfully  than  usual.  Rather  fatigued 
in  body,  he  went  back  to  the  house,  and  seated  himself,  with 
a  book,  in  the  bedroom,  which  overlooked  the  back  meadow. 
The  sun  was  already  very  low,  and  threw  a  magic  light  over 
wood  and  field. 

He  was  absorbed  in  reading,  and  did  not  notice  that  a 
carriage  drove  into  the  yard,  and  two  men  alighted  and 
entered  the  house.  Only  when  the  parlour  door  opened,  he 
looked  up,  and  went  to  meet  the  new  comers. 

Two  young  men  entered  the  room,  both  tall  and  slender, 
and  of  a  pale,  sallow  complexion,  which  indicated  their  South- 
ern origin.  Their  dress  and  deportment  showed  that  they 
belonged  to  the  higher  classes  of  society.  Both  kept  their 
hats  on  their  heads.  In  Europe,  Hubert  would  have  consid- 
ered this  an  insult,  or  at  least  an  incivility.  But  he  had  lived 
too  long  in  America  not  to  know  that  a  hat  kept  on  the  head 
in  a  room,  is  as  little  a  sign  of  rudeness  here  as  that  on  the 
head  of  a  grandee  of  Spain;  even  though,  in  refined  society, 
the  French  custom  of  taking  off  the  hat  has  long  been  adopted 
here  as  in  Europe. 

He  therefore  immediately  inquired,  in  a  polite  tone  : 

"  May  I  ask,  gentlemen,  what  business  leads  you  here  ?" 

One  of  the  persons  whom  he  addressed  had  been  not  un- 
favourably dealt  with  by  Nature  in  his  exterior.  The  height 
of  his  slender  figure  was  indeed  almost  unnatural  for  a  youth 
of  not  yet  twenty  years,  for  he  had  hardly  passed  the  age  of 


THE   VISIT.  355 

boyhood  ;  his  features,  too,  would  have  been  pleasing  enough, 
if  they  had  not  borne,  in  expression  and  colour,  the  unmis- 
takeable  impress  of  a  dissolute  life.  There  was  more  of  inso- 
lence than  of  wildness  in  his  look.  His  dull  eye  seemed  to 
lack  the  fire  for  the  latter. 

The  other,  on  the  contrary,  a  youth  with  noble,  regular 
features,  which  now,  however,  were  disfigured  by  a  gloomy, 
threatening  expression,  seemed  moved  by  passion  throughout. 
He  spoke  first,  and  said,  sternly  : 

"  You  imagine  truly,  sir,  that  it  is  not  a  visit  of  pleasure 
that  brings  us  here,  but  business.  And  the  nature  of  this 
business  you  will  probably  conjecture,  sir,  when  I  tell  you 
that  my  name  is  Castleton." 

Hubert  changed  colour.  "Castleton!"  he  cried,  "Alonzo 
Castleton  !" 

"  That  is  my  name.  My  business  lies  in  that  name,"  replied 
Alonzo  gloomily. 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  sir,"  rejoined  Hubert,  looking 
at  him  attentively. 

At  this  Alonzo's  companion  could  contain  himself  no  longer. 
"  I  am  not  at  all  surprised,"  he  said,  with  an  expression  which 
he  tried  to  make  as  scornful  as  possible,  "  that  you  find  it 
rather  inconvenient  to  understand  my  friend,  although  I'd 
like  to  swear  that  you  did  so  when  you  grew  as  pale  as  a 
sheet.  Perhaps  I  can  assist  your  memory  somewhat,  if  I  tell 
you  that  my  name  is  Dunning." 

During  these  intentionally  insulting  words,  Hubert  had 
entirely  regained  his  composure.  "  Your  name,  sir,"  he  said, 
contemptuously,  "  is  still  unknown  to  me  in  its  greatness." 
Then,  turning  to  Alonzo  :  "  But  the  name  of  Castleton  I 
honour,  and  will  ever  hold  dear.  It  is  your  name,  the  name 
of  Alonzo  Castleton,  the  preserver  of  my  dearest  treasure, 
the  benefactor  of  my  wife  1" 

"  It  was  mere  chance,  no  merit  on  my  part,  that  made  me 
that,"  replied  Alonzo,  still  more  gloomily  than  before  ;  "  but 


356  THE   EXILES. 

you  should  have  honoured  this  chance,  and  not  have  given  me 
a  cup  of  poison  in  return  for  the  refreshing  draught.  But  we 
will  leave  her  out  of  the  question  !  I  have  nothing  to  do 
with  her  !  Only  with  you.  To  you  I  come,  to  call  you  to 
account,  you  know  for  what !" 

"  I  know  for  what  ?     And  of  what  do  you  accuse  me  ?" 

Alonzo's  face  was  suddenly  suffused  with  a  dark  crimson, 
his  eyes  flashed  fire,  and  his  voice  grew  hoarse  and  screaming 
as  he  said  :  "I  accuse  you  of  having  poisoned  a  young  girl's 
heart ;  I  accuse  you  of  having,  under  a  false  name,  won  for 
yourself  the  compassion  of  a  noble  lady,  of  having  crept  into 
her  fancy  in  the  guise  of  an  adventurer,  of  having  induced 
her  to  leave  her  father's  house,  and  of  having  finally  shame- 
fully deserted  her.  That  is  what  I  accuse  you  of !" 

Hubert  looked  at  him  in  horror.  "Alonzo!"  he  exclaimed, 
"  you  are  labouring  under  a  fearful  delusion  !" 

But  these  words  only  increased  the  other's  fury.  "  It  is 
so  !"  he  cried,  passionately,  "it  is  so  !  You  are  a  traitor  ! 
I  will  suffer  no  contradiction  !" 

Before  Hubert  could  answer,  Dunning,  who,  while  Alouzo 
was  speaking,  had  exhausted  himself  in  trying  to  display  his 
contempt  for  Hubert  by  disdainful  miens  and  gestures,  cried  : 
"And  I  accuse  you  of  being  an  accomplice  in  man-stealing, 
and  a  fugitive  from  the  penitentiary,  for  whom  this" — flourish- 
ing his  horsewhip  with  an  insolent  laugh — "  was  intended,  if 
my  friend  hadn't  interceded  for  you  !" 

But  Hubert,  with  flashing  eye,  had  sprung  back,  and 
snatched  from  a  corner  a  thick  heavy  cane  which  he  had  him- 
self cut  in  the  wood  and  trimmed.  "  Villain  !"  he  cried,  "  do 
you  come  to  my  house,  like  an  assassin,  to  attack  me  ?  Is 
that  your  honour  of  a  cavalier  ?  Your  aspersions  I  despise, 
but  one  touch — and  you  shall  be  felled  by  the  weight  of  this 
stick  !" 

But  Alonzo  had  thrown  himself  between  the  two.  "  Dun- 
ning !"  he  cried,  indignantly,  "  is  that  the  way  you  keep  your 


THE   VISIT.  357 

promise  ?  This  is  my  affair,  Bob !— Be  unconcerned,  sir  ; 
my  friend's  zeal  carries  him  too  far.  We  did  not  come  to 
attack  you  dishonourably.  I  came  to  call  you  to  account  for 
your  conduct  towards  a  lady  whom  I  respect,  and  who  is  my 
near  relation,  and  if  you  are  indeed  a  man  of  honour,  you 
will  not  refuse  satisfaction  to  the  offended  party." 

"  Mr.  Castleton."  replied  Hubert,  and  his  whole  manner 
showed  deep  agitation,  "  this  brawler  I  will  meet,  as  he 
desires,  or  rather,  as  he  deserves  ;  but  you,  Alonzo — by 
heaven!  none  of  your  accusations  shall  induce  me  to  have  an 
encounter  with  you  !" 

Alonzo  started.  "  Coward  !"  he  cried,  "  is  your  bit  of  life 
so  dear  to  you  ?" 

Hubert  turned  pale.  "  Boy!"  he  exclaimed,  passionately. 
"  But  no  !  you  do  not  in  reality  think  me  a  coward.  I  dis- 
approve of  duelling,  as  a  remnant  of  an  age  of  barbarity. 
It  is  a  double  stain  in  this  country,  which  has  done  away 
with  less  well-founded  prejudices.  Against  him,  there,  I  will 
prove  to  you  whether  I  can  bear  insult  like  a  coward.  But 
with  you,  Alonzo,  I  will  not  fight !  By  God  in  heaven,  I 
will  not  !" 

Alonzo  was  strangely  bewildered  and  agitated.  Even  Bob 
Dunning  looked  perplexed.  "And  why  not  with  me  ?"  inquired 
the  former,  with  a  frown. 

"  I  honour,  I — love  your  family.  I  honour  Yirginia.  I 
never,  deceived  Yirginia.  I  never  persuaded  her  to  any 
improper  step.  I  have  never  insulted  Virginia,  nor  you, 
Alonzo." 

But  Virginia's  name  was  enough  to  re-awaken  the  whole 
fury  of  passion  in  the  deluded  youth.  There  would  have 
been  no  need  of  Dunning's  calling  to  him  :  "  Can  you  bear 
that,  Castleton  ?  Can  you  let  the  rascal  mention  your  cous- 
in's name  ?" — he  broke  out  anew  into  passionate  reproaches, 
again  called  Hubert  a  coward,  and  with  his  intentionally 
irritating,  hardly  connected  speeches,  Dunning,  with  satanic 


358  THE   EXILES. 

laughter,  mingled  such  sneering  words,  that  Hubert,  unable 
to  contain  himself  any  longer,  had  just  lifted  his  cane  again, 
when — the  door  opened,  and  Clotilde  entered. 

She  came  in  violent  alarm,  and  out  of  breath,  for  al- 
ready in  the  yard  the  angry  voices  had  met  her  ear.  Now 
she  suddenly  stood  among  the  excited  men,  who,  at  her 
entrance,  started  back  as  if  struck  by  an  electric  shock. 
Hubert's  arm  sank.  Alonzo,  changing  colour,  retreated  a 
few  steps  ;  even  Cunning's  coarseness  could  not  resist  the 
atmosphere  of  female  dignity,  and  the  respect  for  the  tender 
sex  to  which  he  had  been  brought  up.  He  mumbled  a  few 
unintelligible  words,  and,  crossing  his  arms,  leaned  back 
against  the  wall. 

"Leave  us  for  a  moment,  dear  wife,"  Hubert  said  at 
length. 

But  Clotilde  had  rapidly  collected  herself.  She  quickly 
approached  Alonzo.  "  Welcome,  dear  friend  !  Welcome  to 
the  house  of  those  who  love  you  so  dearly,  and  esteem  you  so 
much.  Ho*w  ?  you  withdraw  your  hand  ?  What  mistake  is 
here  ?" 

Meanwhile  Alonzo,  too,  had  with  difficulty  collected  him- 
self. "  I  am  not  here  as  your  friend,  Clotilde,"  he  said,  in  a 
constrained  voice,  "  I  am  not  come  on  a  friendly  visit.  My 
business  is  only  with  Hubert,  not  with  you." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  friend,"  replied  Clotilde,  "  Hubert  and  I  are 
one  !  You  cannot  be  angry  at  Hubert  without  being  so  at 
me,  too.  He  loves  you.  To  you  alone  he  owes  my  preserva- 
tion. Oh,  suffer  him,  suffer  me,  to  thank  you  now,  now  that 
my  life  has  only  grown  dear  to  me  again." 

Alonzo  had  turned  from  her  gloomily.  "  Hubert  is  a  de- 
ceiver," he  said. 

"  No,  he  is  not,  dear  friend,"  she  answered,  in  a  low, 
pleading  voice  ;  with  a  rapid  movement  she  possessed  herself 
of  his  hand.  She  continued  to  talk  to  him  with  fervour  ;  she 
spoke  of  their  present  happiness,  finally  attained  after  so  much 


THE   VISIT.  "    359 

suffering,  and  how  they  owed  it  to  him  alone.'  She  carefully 
avoided  Yirginia's  name. 

In  the  mean  time,  Hubert  and  Dunning  had  rapidly  ex- 
changed a  few  low,  hasty  words.  Both  seemed  suddenly 
passionless  and  decided,  and  Dunning,  while  they  hastily  made 
some  necessary  agreements,  was  even  more  civil  in  his  lan- 
guage than  Hubert.  Clotilde,  while  she  was  speaking,  and 
exercising  the  old  charm  over  the  noble  nature  of  the  bewil- 
dered youth,  had  stood  with  her  back  to  the  others,  and  did 
not  observe  their  negotiation. 

At  this  moment  Dunning  called  out,  "  Enough  of  fine  words 
now,  Castleton  !  Our  business  is  settled,  we  must  go  !" 

Alonzo  tore  himself  away.  "  Enough,  Clotilde  !"  he  cried, 
and  both,  bowing  politely  for  the  first  time,  rushed  from  the 
door,  from  the  house.  In  a  moment  they  were  in  their  chaise, 
and  flew  from  the  courtyard. 

"  Hubert  P  exclaimed  Clotilde,  in  the  greatest  consterna- 
tion, "  what  does  this  mean  ?  Tell  me  what  has  happened  ! 
Tell  me  all." 

"  Nothing,  dearest  heart,"  he  replied,  "  nothing  of  moment. 
Do  not  be  uneasy  !" — and  then,  feeling  the  need  of  solitude, 
he  broke  off  the  conversation,  took  his  hat,  and  went  quickly 
out  of  the  back-door,  crossing  the  meadow  with  long  strides, 
in  the  direction  of  the  wood. 

In  what  a  terrible  state  of  mind  did  he  leave  Clotilde  ! 
He  would  not  speak  to  her,  would  not  hear  her  !  And 
Alouzo  ?  What  could  be  his  purpose  ?  That  he  had  not 
given  it  up  was  quite  certain;  but  it  had  been  shaken,  he  had 
been  softened,  his  anger  had  begun  to  yield  to  reason,  his 
hatred  to  gentler  feelings,  when  that  demon  dragged  him 
away  with  him.  She  must  see  him  once  more,  she  must  run 
every  risk,  to  prevent  the  abomination  of  a  combat  between 
— brothers. 

She  hastened  to  the  stable,  before  which  the  carriage  still 
stood.  Eli  was  just  taking  out  the  horse,  when  his  mistress 


360  THE   EXILES. 

rushed  up  to  him.  "  Quick,  Eli,  we  must  be  off  again.  We 
must  follow  these  gentlemen.  I  must  speak  to  them  once 
more." 

And  hastily  assisting  Eli  to  reharness  the  horse,  the  car- 
riage was  soon  in  readiness  again.  Clotilde  threw  herself  into 
it.  "  Now  hurry,  my  boy,"  she  said,  "  and  I'll  give  you  some- 
thing if  you  overtake  them  by  the  way." 

The  boy  was  delighted  at  the  chance  of  racing  down  hill, 
which  was  generally  forbidden  him.  But  t'  e  others  had  too 
much  the  advantage  for  him  to  have  reached  them,  if  an  acci- 
dent, caused  by  their  furious  driving,  had  not  subjected  them 
to  a  necessary  delay.  One  of  the  wheels  was  broken,  and  the 
carriage  had  been  slowly  dragged  to  the  house  where  Eli's  pa- 
rents lived,  so  that  the  injury  might  be  repaired  sufficiently  to 
enable  them  to  reach  the  village.  The  gentlemen  had  alighted. 
Dunning  stood  beside  the  chaise,  cursing  and  swearing, 
Alonzo  was  pacing  rapidly  up  and  down  the  small  space  that 
had  been  cleared  in  front  of  the  house,  when  Clotilde  arrived 
and  sprang  from  the  carriage. 

She  resolutely  approached  Alonzo,  who  looked  at  her  in 
startled  snrprise,  put  her  arm  in  his,  and  led  him  to  the  other 
end  of  the  little  grass  plot. 

"  Mr.  Castleton,"  she  said,  calmly,  "  I  must  speak  to  you. 
No  false  delicacy  shall  prevent  me  from  following  you  till  you 
have  answered  me.  This  fearful  mistake,  which  causes  you  to 
depart  entirely  from  your  noble,  generous  nature,  must  be  ex- 
plained." 

Alonzo,  too,  had  by  this  time  collected  himself  completely, 
"  No  mistake,  madam,"  he  said,  with  forced  coldness.  "  All 
discussions  about  it  will  not  alter  the  matter.  You  think  Mr. 
Hubert  innocent,  I  think  him  guilty.  We  will  not  change 
each  other's  opinion.  But  guilty  or  not  guilty,  I  am  resolved 
upon  a  course  of  action,  such  as  alone  becomes  a  man  of  hon- 
our, and  which  none  of  your  entreaties  or  remonstrances  will 
alter." 


THE   VISIT.  361 

"  But  what  is  it  that  you  want,  Alonzo  ?  What  do  you 
want  to  revenge  on  him  ?  For  what  do  you  wish  to  punish 
him?" 

Alonzo  looked  at  Clotilde  with  a  kind  of  pity.  "  I  could 
answer  you  :  for  his  having  trampled  under  foot  the  laws  of 
my  country,  and  having  sown,  by  example  as  well  as  by  evil 
precepts,  the  seed  of  mutiny  and  rebellion  among  a  peaceable 
community.  But  I  prefer  to  tell  you  the  whole  truth.  I 
would  punish  him,  Clotilde,"  and  while  he  spoke,  the  pas- 
sionate working  of  his  features  returned  with  redoubled  force, 
"  because,  faithless  and  dishonourable,  he  forgot  you,  who 
were  mourning  away  your  life  for  him,  and  treacherously  crept 
into  Virginia's  unguarded  heart  ;  because  he  entangled  her 
fancy  in  a  net  of  falsehood,  and  when  he  had  finally,  after 
following  her  from  place  to  place,  succeeded  in  inducing  her, 
in  her  generosity,  to  take  one  false  step,  made  her  the  vic- 
tim of  a  re-awakened  passion." 

His  words  pierced  Clotilde's  heart  like  daggers.  But  a 
voice  within  her  cried,  It  is  not  true  !  But  how  should  she 
place  her  words  so  as  not  to  excite  the  unhappy  youth — for 
unhappy  she  felt  he  was — still  more.  She  could  not  acknowl- 
edge Hubert  to  be  guilty,  and  yet  she  knew  that  Alonzo 
could  not  support  the  conviction  of  Virginia's  guilt. 

"  Oh,  Alonzo,"  she  cried,  "  Virginia  deceived  herself  be- 
fore she  deceived  you.  If  Hubert  ever  erred  against  me, 
against  my  memory,  I  have  long  forgiven  him,  he  has  long 
since  atoned  for  it  to  me  by  the  fullest  love.  But  believe  me, 
Alonzo,  he  never  loved  Virginia.  He  esteemed  her.  He 
admired  her.  Virginia  thought  herself  beloved,  now  thinks 
herself  deceived.  She  will  forget  this  passing  fancy." 

She  was  alarmed  at  the  effect  of  her  words.  Alonzo  had 
stared  at  her  while  she  spoke,  and  his  features  were  so  strangely 
distorted,  that  Clotilde  shuddered.  Suddenly  his  face  was 
covered  with  a  dark  glow,  his  eyes  flashed  with  fury,  and  he 
cried  :  "  Clotilde,  I  have  sworn  it  1  I  have  sworn  to  her,  by 
16 


362  THE   EXILES. 

the  life  of  my  unhappy  mother,  that  I  would  avenge  her. 
And  shall  I  renounce  her  for  ever  ?  Shall  I  lose  the  prize  of 
a  whole  life  ?  Shall  another  bear  off  the  pearl  that  belongs 
to  me  alone  ?  Yes,  I  have  sworn  it  to  her  !  I  will  avenge 
her  !  No  other  shall  do  it !  Blood  must  flow  !  His  blood 
must  flow  !  Blood  alone  can  avenge  her  !  Xot  a  word, 
Clotilde  !  I  have  sworn  it,  and  sooner  than  I  will  renounce 
this  prize,  for  which  I  have  suffered  so  fearfully,  the  abyss  of 
hell  shall  swallow  me  up  1" 

In  a  passion  awful  to  behold,  and  increasing  with  every 
word,  the  unfortunate  young  man  stood  before  her.  Suddenly 
he  turned  to  the  carriage,  which  stood  in  readiness,  as  if  he  were 
flying  from  her.  His  companion  had  observed  the  conversa- 
tion from  afar,  stamping  and  cursing  impatiently.  But  when, 
at  Alonzo's  last  furious  outbreak,  Clotilde  grew  suddenly  pale, 
and,  when  he  turned  from  her,  fell  back  fainting,  it  was  Dun- 
ning who  sprang  to  her  assistance,  and  supported  her  half- 
unconscious  form  until  Eli's  mother  came  running  up  to 
aid  her,  while  the  two  cavaliers  drove  rapidly  away. 


THE  SPRINGING    UP    OF   THE   SEED. 


CHAPTEE  XXIII. 

THE   SPRINGING  UP  OF  THE   SEED. 

Ewas  only  for  a  few  moments  that  Clotilde,  paralyzed  by 
Tear  and  anxiety,  remained  in  a  state  of  half-unconscious- 
ness, while  the  good  negro  woman  tried  to  lead  her  into  the 
house. 

"  I  wonder  if  he  calls  himself  a  gentleman,"  cried  the 
latter,  indignantly,  "  to  talk  to  a  lady  so  roughly.  They're 
fine  Christians!  Racing  down  hill  as  if  the  devil  was  behind 
them,  cursing  and  swearing  worse  than  the  heathen,  and 
speaking  to  a  lady  as  if  they'd  run  away  from  a  mad-house. 
Come  along,  dear,  don't  think  of  it  any  more.  Just  come 
in,  missus  dear,  and  get  a  drink  of  water  1" 

But  Clotilde  quickly  roused  herself.  She  felt  decidedly 
that  she  must  act.  "  I  will,  I  must  disclose  all  to  him," — 
this  one  thought  filled  her  mind, — "  there  is  no  other  way  of 
preventing  this  awful  crime." 

Hastily  thanking  the  woman,  she  tore  herself  from  her, 
and  staggered  to  the  carriage.  "We  must  go  back  to  the 
house  again  immediately,  my  good  Eli,"  she  said,  and  urged 
the  astonished  boy  to  make  the  horse  go  faster. 

"  I  must  disclose  the  truth  to  him,  however  bitter  it  may 
be  to  the  injured  pride  of  the  unhappy  man — and  Hubert 
must  not  know  it !  His  pride,  too,  might  step  in  my  way  ! 
He  will  do  everything  to  avoid  an  encounter,  I  am  certain 
of  that.  He  would  do  the  same  if  Alonzo  were  a  stranger. 
I  know  his  principles.  But  if  he  were  urged,  perhaps  at- 


364  THE   EXILES. 

tacked — how  many  instances  of  the  kind  have  I  heard  of 
in  these  passionate  Southerners — he  would  be  obliged  to 
defend,  to  aid  himself.  His  life  is  in  danger,  and  he  might, 
against  his  will,  be  led  to  that  fearful  crime  on  which  fell  the 
first  curse.  My  beloved,  I  must  avert  this  danger  from 
you ! 

"  I  must  do  so  without  telling  Hubert  of  it.  These  men 
cannot  endure  to  have  a  shadow  of  suspicion  fall  upon  them 
of  their  dreading  any  danger.  He  might  possibly  find  some- 
thing in  this  course,  that  was  against  his  honour.  I  am 
willing  to  have  him  conjecture  the  step  which  I  have  taken, 
and  draw  it  from  me  at  some  future  time,  but  unasked  I  will 
not  disclose  it  to  him.  When  all  is  over,  he  will  approve 
of  my  conduct." 

These  thoughts  had  brought  her  home.  She  was  glad  to 
find  that  Hubert  had  not  yet  returned  from  his  work.  She 
quickly  opened  her  writing-desk.  If  she  had  been  less 
excited,  she  would  have  been  painfully  embarrassed  with 
regard  to  a  choice  of  the  words  in  which  she  should  reveal 
to  the  unhappy  youth  what  an  ineffaceable  stain  rested  upon 
his  birth.  But  her  glowing  zeal  rapidly  inspired  her  with 
words,  her  natural  sense  of  delicacy  dictated  to  her  the 
suitable  ones.  She  disclosed  to  him  that  his  father  Uberto, 
and  Hubert,  the  father  of  her  husband,  were  one  and  the 
same  person,  and  the  latter  his  elder  brother.  She  related 
to  him  in  hasty,  softening,  and  yet  truthful  outlines,  the 
history  of  his  father,  told  the  circumstances  of  his  later  life, 
and  the  year  of  his  death,  and  sent  him,  in  confirmation  of 
this  improbable  sounding  discovery,  the  miraculous  image 
of  the  Virgin  which  had  belonged  to  his  mother.  This  ar- 
ticle, which  bore  signs  of  its  authenticity  upon  it  that  could 
not  be  doubted,  must  necessarily  convince  him  of  the  truth 
of  her  statements,  however  unwelcome  they  might  be  to 
him. 

When   she   had  carefully  sealed   the   package   and   the 


THE   SPRINGING   UP   OF   THE   SEED.          365 

letter,  she  called  Eli  to  her.  Twilight  had  set  in  in  the 
mean  time. 

"  Eli,"  she  said,  "  I  am  going  to  charge  you  with  some- 
thing very  important  to-day.  I  have  something  for  you  to 
do  which  must  be  done  to-day." 

"  Very  well,  missus,"  answered  the  boy,  readily;  "shall  I 
write  ?  or  cipher  ?" — for  Clotilde  gave  him  lessons  in  both. 

"  Oh,  no!  I  want  you  to  take  these  things  down  to  the 
inn  this  evening,  to  the  gentleman  who  is  called  Mr.  Castle- 
ton." 

"This  evening?"  asked  the  boy,  and  hesitated.  "It'll 
be  night  before  I  get  there." 

"  If  you  walk  quickly,  you  can  reach  the  village  before 
it  is  quite  dark.  Are  you  afraid  ?" 

"Afraid  ?  No,  indeed  !  But — it's  so  dark  in  the  woods 
at  night — not  that  I  am  afraid — but " 

"  Why  it's  full  moon,  Eli,  you'll  come  back  in  the  bright 
moonlight." 

"  The  moon's  awful  in  the  woods,  missus,"  replied  Eli,  "  I 
ain't  afraid,  but " 

"  Yery  well ;  as  I  said  before,  the  matter  is  very  im- 
portant. If  you  exert  yourself,  you  can  get  there  before 
night.  And  I  will  spare  you  a  large  part  of  the  way  home. 
You  can  stay  over  night  at  your  parents,  and  come  back 
early  to-morrow  morning." 

Eli,  though  naturally  rather  fearful,  was  good-natured, 
and  the  prospect  of  spending  the  evening  with  his  brothers 
and  sisters,  finally  removed  all  his  objections.  Clotilde  gave 
him  his  supper  to  eat  on  the  way.  Then  she  put  the  letter 
and  package  into  his  hands,  with  the  urgent  admonition 
to  give  them,  if  he  could  not  see  Mr.  Castleton  himself,  to 
Mrs.  Curtis,  and  beg  her,  in  his  mistress'  name,  to  deliver 
them  as  soon  as  possible.  Then  once  more  recommending 
him  to  be  as  quick  as  he  could,  and  very  careful  in  the  execu- 
tion of  his  commission,  she  sent  him  off.  She  saw  him  run 


366  THE   EXILES. 

down  the  hill,  and  looked  after  him  until  a  turn  in  the  road 
hid  him  from  her  eyes.  She  felt  easier  when  the  letter  was 
gone.  "  Bat  where  can  Hubert  be  ?"  she  asked  herself,  and 
stepped  from  the  back-door  out  on  the  meadow. 

It  grew  darker  and  darker.  "  He  must  have  gone  very 
far,"  she  thought. 

She  went  into  the  kitchen  to  prepare  the  supper.  Here 
she  saw  that  Eli,  occupied  by  having  to  drive  to  and  fro  so 
much,  had  neglected  to  place  the  necessary  wood  in  readiness 
for  her.  She  went  to  the  wood-house  herself  to  fetch  in  an 
armful.  She  opened  the  door.  To  her  surprise  she  saw 
Hubert  before  her,  who  was  occupied,  in  a  corner  of  the 
shed,  with  something  which  he  hastily  concealed  .at  her  un- 
expected entrance.  But  her  eye  had  already  caught  a 
flash,  as  of  polished  metal. 

"You  here,  dearest!"  she  exclaimed,  in  surprise.  "I 
thought  you  had  not  returned  yet.  Have  you  been  home 
long  ?" 

Hubert  gave  her  an  evasive  answer.  He  appeared  not  to 
have  missed  her,  and  evidently  did  not  know  that  she  had 
been  absent.  He  now  followed  her  into  the  kitchen,  assisted 
her  in  her  little  preparations,  and  when  she  replied  to  his 
inquiry  after  Eli,  that  she  had  given  him  something  to  do, 
he  seemed  quite  satisfied. 

Both,  for  a  while,  avoided  speaking  of  the  visitors  whom 
Clotilde  had  found  with  Hubert  that  afternoon.  The  former 
at  length  found  this  reserve  too  unnatural ;  and  she  noticed, 
besides  this,  a  certain  increased  tenderness  in  Hubert's  whole 
manner,  a  certain  gentleness,  which  touched  her,  though  it 
did  not  surprise  her.  For  she  suspected  that  this  heightened 
affection  on  Hubert's  part  was  ascribable  to  his  presentiment 
of  a  coming  danger.  The  reason  which  she  had  for  hoping 
that  she  had  averted  this  danger,  made  her  calmer,  though 
not  less  affectionate. 

"  Dearest  husband,"  she  said,  putting  her  arm  around  him, 


THE   SPRINGING    UP   OF   THE   SEED.          307 

"  let  us  not  persist  in  a  reserve  which  alters  so  entirely  our  re- 
lation to  each  other  !  As  I  saw  Alonzo  to-day,  I  hardly  re- 
cognised in  him  the  noble  youth  of  formerly.  Into  such  an 
unnatural  state  an  unhappy  passion  has  thrown  him." 

"  I  was  forcibly  seized,"  replied  Hubert,  "  when,  so  suddenly 
— my  brother  stood  before  me.  He  came  full  of  hatred  and 
thirst  for  revenge.  I  felt  nothing  but  love  and  pity.  None 
of  his  insulting  words  could  irritate  me  more  than  moment- 
arily. And  yet  I  feel  decidedly,  that  a  disclosure  of  our  re- 
lation to  each  other  would  only  excite  him  still  more  against 
me." 

Clotllde  reddened  slightly.  "  It  would  be  cruel  to  reveal 
it  to  him  imtiecentiarilt/,"  she  said,  emphatically.  "  But  why,  if 
in  your  breast  there  is  only  love  for  your  brother,  should  he 
feel  less  kindly,  if  he  ever  discovered  your  relation.  I  never 
knew  him  to  be  otherwise  than  noble  and  just." 

"  Can  you  ask  why  ?"  rejoined  Hubert.  "  His  birth  has  not 
injured  me.  /can  love  him  without  generosity.  But  my  ex- 
istence, and  its  undeniable  legality,  only  deepens  the  impress 
of  shame  which  his  bears.  May  he  therefore  never  learn 
who  was  my  father  !" 

"Never  unnecessarily,"  repeated  Clotilde.  "  But  you  only 
half  know  the  noble  youth.  You  have  only  seen  him  in  an 
unnatural  o /er-exciteinent,  into  which  his  own  and  Virginia's 
unhappy  passion  had  thrown  him.  I  hardly  venture  to  decide 
whether  he  deceives  himself,  or  has  been  deceived  by  Virgi- 
nia's jealous  desire  for  revenge — I  almost  fear  the  latter." 

Hubert  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hands.  Clotilde  con- 
tinued : 

"  He  is  your  brother,  dearest  ;  nevertheless,  I  can  only 
wish  and  pray  that  you  may  never  meet  again." 

"  Be  it  so,  my  beloved,"  replied  Hubert,  "  but  if  we  should 
meet,  you  may  be  certain  that  this  hand  will  never  be  raised 
against  my  brother,  even  though  he  should  seek  to  excite  me 
to  it  by  a  thousand  insults." 


368  THE    EXILES. 

"  Heaven  forbid  !"  said  Clotilde.  "  But  tell  me,  Franz — 
did  I  not  see  arms  in  your  hand  a  while  ago  ?  Were  they 
not  pistols  ?  Can  it  be  ?  Is  there  any  possibility  of  your  hav- 
ing occasion  to  use  them  ?" 

Hubert  smiled  rather  constrainedly.  "  How  you  watch 
me  !"  he  said,  with  some  embarrassment.  "  As  far  as  I  know, 
you  have  never  found  it  singular  that,  in  our  lonely  situation, 
I  always  have  a  brace  of  pistols  in  readiness.  And  it  can 
surprise  you  just  as  little  that  it  enters  my  mind  to  test  the 
serviceableness  of  my  weapons,  when,  one  fine  afternoon,  a 
couple  of  bullies  enter  my  house  and  insult  me,  after  their 
Southern  cavalier-fashion.  You  may  depend  upon  it,  how- 
ever, against  Alonzo  I  shall  never  make  use  of  these  or  any 
other  weapons." 

Clotilde  kissed  him  gently.  "  Dear,  noble  heart !"  she 
said,  tenderly,  and  felt  herself  pressed  to  his  breast  in  delight. 
She  was  wonderfully  calmed  by  his  words.  Poor  thing  !  She 
knew  nothing  of  the  share  which  Dunning  had  in  that  unlucky, 
unfortunate  afternoon-visit.  The  whole  business  with  him 
had  remained  entirely  unknown  to  her  ;  it  was  interrupted 
by  her  entrance,  and  was  finished  behind  her  back  during  her 
conversation  with  Alonzo.  She  little  suspected  that  the  ar- 
rangements for  the  unhappy  encounter  which  she  hoped  with 
certainty  to  have  prevented,  had  already  been  made. 

She  therefore  gave  herself  up,  unconcernedly,  to  a  more 
general  conversation  with  her  beloved  husband,  which  received 
a  higher  charm  from  the  enhanced  fervency  of  his  manner. 
A  blissful  feeling  of  renewed  surety  of  possession  entered  her 
poor  heart.  It  seemed  to  her  as  if  they  both  had  suddenly 
been  removed  from  some  great  danger,  and  while  she  gave 
and  received  words  of  love,  her  heart  rose  up  in  gratitude  to 
God. 

They  went  out  into  the  glorious  moonlight  night.  Strewn 
with  brilliant  stars,  the  arch  of  heaven  rose  above  them,  of  a 
deep  azure,  and  yet  of  a  purity  and  clearness  such  as  Clotilde 


THE   SPRINGING   UP   OF   THE   SEED.          369 

had  never  seen  but  in  Italy.  What  feeling  individual  is  there, 
in  whom  the  moon's  gentle  light  does  not  awaken  an  inner 
spiritual  life  ?  Or  recall  the  memory  of  beloved  dead  ?  Our 
lovers,  too,  gave  themselves  up  to  such  recollections  on  this 
evening.  They  spoke  of  Clotilde's  dear  parents,  for  whom 
Hubert  too  had  cherished  such  a  warm  affection  ;  of  Hubert's 
exemplary  mother,  and,  with  a  deep  sigh,  of  his  father,  who 
had  possessed  everything  that  could  grace  and  adorn  life, 
and  who  now  stood  before  his  Judge,  to  render  up  an  account 
of  the  talent  intrusted  to  his  care. 

With  tears,  too,  they  spoke  of  their  dear  friends,  Stellmann 
and  Henrietta,  who  had  gone  forth,  with  such  innocent  delight, 
to  meet  a  new  life,  only  to  be  hurled  into  eternity  in  a  mo- 
ment of  indescribable  terror. 

"  They  died  together,  at  least,"  said  Clotilde.  "  There  is 
consolation  in  that.  But  we,  Hubert,  who  were  torn  asunder, 
and  by  God's  decree  were  brought  together  again  after  many 
heavy  trials — could  we  endure  the  thought  of  having  to  part 
again  now  ?  Would  not  a  separation  be  a  thousand  tunes 
more  bitter  now  that  we  are  so  completely  interwoven  with 
each  other,  than  at  that  time — now,  when  we  are  looking 
forward  to  a  new,  three-fold  existence,  when  we  are  blessed 
not  only  by  a  sweet  present,  but  also  by  happy  hopes  ?  Oh, 
that  Sassen  were  here  !  That  he,  dear  friend,  could  convince 
himself  that  I  am  truly  happy  by  your  side.  It  would  recon- 
cile the  excellent  man  to  my  emigration  and  to  that  which  he 
calls  his  loss.  For  he  has  a  strong,  generous  heart  !" 

Hubert  sat  beside  her,  his  breast  overflowing  with  min- 
gled emotions  of  happiness  and  pain.  He  had  wound  his 
arm  around  the  dear  one,  and  leaned  his  head  upon  her 
shoulder.  He,  usually  so  eloquent,  was  silent  now,  and  drank 
in  with  painful  delight  the  sounds  which  the  beloved  wife, 
whom  he  held  in  his  arms,  whispered  to  him  in  her  happiness. 
His  heart  was  heavy.  He  feared  not  death.  Trusting  to 
his  skill,  indeed,  he  hardly  believed  in  any  danger.  But 
16* 


370  THE    EXILES. 

there  was  a  possibility.  He  could  not  withdraw  his  eye 
from  it  entirely.  And  life  was  so  beautiful  with  her  ! 

They  had  retired  very  late  ;  Clotilde  awoke  the  next 
morning,  later  than  usual,  roused  by  a  gentle  kiss  from 
Hubert.  He  stood  before  her  completely  dressed. 

"  I  did  not  intend  to  waken  you,  dear  heart,"  he  said. 
"  You  were  sleeping  so  quietly  and  soundly.  I  must  go  to 
work  early  to-day,  to  carry  on  the  path  in  the  valley.  I  was 
going  away  without  breakfast,  so  as  not  to  waken  you  ;  but 
you  looked  so  strangely  lovely,  I  could  not  resist." 

"  Naughty  man  !"  said  Clotilde,  hastily  throwing  on  her 
clothes.  "What  if  you  had  gone  off  without  breakfast, 
because  your  lazy  wife  overslept  herself!  You  shall  have 
something  to  eat  immediately.  Pray  do  not  go,  wait  a  few 
moments." 

"  I  do  not  know  where  the  boy  is,"  remarked  Hubert. 
"  I  have  been  calling  him,  but  in  vain." 

Clotilde  averted  her  face.  "  I  had  an  errand  for  him 
quite  late  last  night,  and  told  him  he  might  stay  at  his 
father's  all  night,  but  he  ought  to  be  here  now." 

She  was  busy  with  her  preparations.  Hubert  looked  at 
her  dreamily,  following  each  of  her  movements  with  his  eyes. 
Breakfast  was  soon  ready,  and  despatched  in  some  haste. 
Eli  had  not  yet  returned.  When  Hubert  took  up  his  tools, 
Clotilde,  too,  put  on  her  sun-bonnet,  to  attend  to  some  work 
in  the  garden  before  the  sun  should  be  too  hot. 

Hubert  threw  his  arms  around  her,  and  the  farewell-kiss 
which  he  pressed  upon  her  lips  was  accompanied  by  an 
embrace  so  painfully  fervent,  that  she  laughingly  extricated 
herself,  and  begged  him  not  to  crush  her.  She  ran  away 
when  he  would  have  repeated  the  embrace,  kissed  her  hand 
to  him,  and  disappeared  in  the  garden. 

She  was  hardly  gone,  when  he  returned  to  his  room,  hid 
the  spade  and  axe  behind  the  door,  threw  off  his  working- 
clothes,  and  dressed  himself  fully.  With  the  loaded  pistols 


THE   SPRINGING   UP   OP   THE   SEED.         371 

concealed  in  his  pockets,  he  went,  with  rapid  steps,  through 
the  front-door,  across  the  courtyard,  and  down  the  hill. 

Clotilde,  meanwhile,  had  several  times  looked  around 
anxiously  for  Eli.  At  last,  in  passing  the  stable,  she  saw  him 
in  it,  rubbing  down  the  horse. 

"  What !"  she  exclaimed,  "  Eli,  you  here  ?  You  at  home  ? 
Why  did  you  not  tell  me  of  it  ?  Have  you  been  here  long  ?" 

"  Yes,  missus,  some  time,"  replied  the  boy,  without  pausing 
in  his  occupation. 

"  Come  out,  Eli,"  she  called  to  him. 

He  came  out  slowly. 

"  Now  tell  me,  how  did  you  deliver  your  message  ?  Did 
you  give  the  letter  to  Mr.  Castleton  himself  ?" 

"  I  gave  it  to  Missus  Curtis." 

"Why  not  to  Mr.  Castleton  ?" 

"  He  wasn't  home." 

"  Not  at  home,  so  late  in  the  evening  ?  Where  could  he 
have  gone  to  in  the  village  ?" 

"  Don't  know,  missus,  he  was  gone  out  already,  and  the 
other  gentlemen,  too." 

"  Gone  out  already  ?  What  are  you  talking  about,  Eli  ? 
Did  you  not  carry  the  letter  last  night  ?" 

"  I  mean,"  replied  the  boy,  "  he  hadn't  come  home  yet. 
You  can  ask  Missus  Curtis  ;  I  really  and  truly  gave  her  the 
letter." 

"Who  doubts  it,  Eli  ?  But  why  do  you  not  look  at  me 
when  you  are  speaking  to  me  ?  How  often  have  I  reproved 
you  for  that  unpleasant  habit  of  looking  on  one  side  when  you 
are  speaking  or  being  spoken  to  !" 

Eli  looked  straight  in  her  face.  "  It's  certainly  true, 
missus  ;  I  put  the  letter  and  the  bundle  in  Missus  Curtis' 
hand  myself,  and  she  said  she'd  give  them  to  the  gentlemen 
right  away,  as  soon  as  they  came  back,  and  would  ask  first 
which  one  was  called  Castleton.  She  said  the  gentlemen  were 
going  away  to-day.  Slio  wanted  to  know  if  it  wasn't  an  old 


372  THE   EXILES. 

acquaintance  of  yours  -or  Mr.  Hubert's.     It  got  to  him  quite 
safe,  missus." 

The  boy  spoke  the  truth,  but  not  the  whole  truth.  He 
had  punctually  delivered  the  letter  and  package;  not  the  night 
before,  however,  as  Clotilde  had  ordered  him,  but  only  that 
morning.  For  already  in  the  increasing  twilight  a  feeling  of 
fear  had  come  over  him  in  the  wood.  He  could  not  help 
stopping  at  his  mother's  for  a  moment,  to  see  if  one  of  his 
brothers,  or  perhaps  his  father,  could  keep  him  company.  But 
the  latter  was  at  work  on  a  farm  some  distance  off,  where  he 
was  going  to  stay  all  night,  and  had  taken  along  the  boy 
who  came  next  to  Eli.  While  they  were  talking  over  the 
matter  it  grew  later  and  later.  Eli  finally  thought  the  night 
would  not  make  much  difference,  and  that  he  would  rather 
get  up  early  and  do  the  errand  by  daylight.  The  mother  was 
easily  persuaded.  He  remained,  and  played  with  the  children 
till  bedtime. 

All  this  he  carefully  concealed  from  his  mistress.  With- 
out misgiving,  Clotilde  returned  to  her  household  work.  She 
did  not  suspect  that  the  thunder-cloud  which  she  hoped  to 
have  turned  off,  was  already  hovering  over  her  head,  ready 
to  burst  ! 

At  a  short  distance  from  the  village,  removed  from  the 
public  road,  and  only  connected  with  it  by  footpaths,  was  a 
little  grove — slender,  vigorous  trees,  crowded  by  no  rankling 
underwood — interspersed  with  green  clearings,  the  largest 
about  fifty  feet  square.  In  this  open  space  three  young  men 
were  walking  to  and  fro  with  impatient  strides.  Two  of  them 
we  know  already.  Alonzo  Castleton,  with  his  dark,  flashing 
eyes,  his  sallow  complexion  spotted  with  dark  red  from  fe- 
verish excitement,  the  veins  of  his  forehead  thickly  swollen. 
It  was  evident  that,  although  it  was  early  morning,  he  had 
heated  himself  by  drink,  and,  in  want  of  a  fiery  wine,  which 
was  not  to  be  found  in  the  village,  had  made  use  of  some  other 
more  vulgar  concoction,  composed  of  rum  and  other  heating 


THE   SPRINGING    UP    OF    THE    SEED.  373 

ingredients — poisonous,  ruinous  beverages,  such  as  greedy  ap- 
petites have  invented  in  great  variety  in  the  United  States. 

In  the  tall  figure  of  the  other,  as  well  as  in  the  pale  face, 
with  features  disfigured  by  early  dissipation,  we  easily  recog- 
nise Robert  Dunning. 

The  third  was  a  healthy,  vigorous  young  man,  also  from 
South  Carolina,  and  an  intimate  friend  of  Alonzo's.  He  was 
a  medical  student,  and  had  just  passed  a  brilliant  examination 
at  Boston.  He  was  on  the-  eve  of  a  voyage  to  Europe,  to 
finish  his  studies  at  Paris  and  Yienna,  and  prepare  himself 
for  future  practice  in  one  of  the  Southern  States.  Just  then 
Alonzo,  the  playmate  of  his  boyhood,  came  to  him,  on  his  way 
to  Vermont — for  from  Clotilde's  letter  and  remittance  he  had 
at  length  learned  where  he  could  find  the  hated  man  who  had 
robbed  him  of  Virginia's  heart.  The  unhappy  girl,  burning 
with  jealousy  and  revenge,  had  promised  him  her  hand  as  the 
price  of  the  traitor's  punishment.  Was  it  love,  was  it  stub- 
bornness of  purpose,  which  now  made  the  deluded  youth  put 
his  life  at  stake  to  win  the  prize  so  long  striven  for  ? 

He  came  to  Boston  to  ask  Edward  Lorimer — this  was 
the  young  physician's  name — to  do  him  the  friendly  service 
of  accompanying  him  to  Vermont,  and  acting  as  his  second. 
But  Robert  Dunning,  who,  kept  au  courant  of  Hubert's  trial 
by  the  papers  and  his  mother's  letters,  had  taken  a  lively 
interest  in  it,  and  who,  besides,  was  a  sworn  enemy  of  all  Ab- 
olitionists, forced  himself  upon  him  in  the  same  capacity  for 
this  bloody  enterprise.  Or  rather  he  declared  his  intention 
of  going  to  Vermont  himself,  now  that  he  knew  the  retreat 

of  this  vagabond,  to  give  the  d man-stealer  a  lesson  with 

his  horsewhip  ;  and  it  was  only  by  accepting  his  offer  of  acting 
as  his  second,  on  which  occasion  he  hoped  to  wreak  his  ven- 
geance upon  him  in  still  a  different  way,  that  Alonzo  had 
finally  extorted  from  him  the  promise  not  to  forestall  him  in 
an  attack  on  the  foreign  adventurer. 

Alonzo,  in  whom,  in  spite  of  the  storm  within  his  breast, 


374  THE   EXILES. 

there  mingled,  with  his  chivalric  sense  of  honour,  a  suspicion 
that  he  had  no  common  adventurer  to  deal  with,  now  requested 
Lorimer  to  join  them,  partly  to  act  as  surgeon  in  case  of 
necessity,  partly,  and  particularly,  that  the  stranger,  who, 
from  Clotilde's  description,  lived  secluded  from  all  society, 
only  among  common  farmers,  might  not  be  without  assist- 
ance. 

Lorimer,  by  some  years  the  senior  of  the  two  others, 
would  have  preferred  not  to  take  part  in  the  affair,  as  his 
European  tour  was  already  fixed,  and  his  passage  taken  ; 
but  he,  too,  hated  the  Abolitionists  as  much  as  any  South- 
erner, and  did  not  grudge  the  intruder  a  good  chastisement, 
even  if  he  was  not  inclined  to  bestow  it  himself.  Added 
to  this,  he  could  hope  to  withdraw  himself  all  the  more 
easily,  by  his  near  departure,  from  the  severe  punitory  laws 
of  the  New-England  States,  which  regarded  the  duellist 
as  a  murderer,  and  the  second  as  a  murderer's  accomplice. 
Alonzo's  appeal  to  his  generosity,  with  regard  to  the  desolate 
situation  of  the  stranger  in  case  of  an  encounter,  settled  the 
matter,  and  he  suffered  himself  to  be  induced  to  accompany 
the  two  friends. 

When  the  latter  repaired  to  Hubert's  house,  Lorimer  still 
hoped  that  a  few  strokes  from  Dunning — of  the  intention  of 
giving  which,  the  latter  still  bragged  to  him,  if  not  to  Alonzo 
— would  put  an  end  to  the  affair,  and  that  Alonzo  would 
pronounce  the  adventurer,  dishonoured  thus  before  his  eyes, 
unworthy  of  the  nobler  punishment  from  the  hand  of  a  cavalier. 
But  when  they  returned,  Alonzo  penetrated  by  Hubert's 
noble  demeanour,  and  the  interview  with  Clotilde,  Dunning 
full  of  compelled  esteem  for  the  stranger,  he  too  commenced 
to  look  at  the  matter  from  another  point  of  view.  In  the 
mean  time  everything  was  agreed  upon  and  decided  :  time, 
place,  and  weapons.  And  Hubert  had  also  been  informed 
of  the  fact  that  Lorimer,  in  default  of  a  personal  friend,  would 
act  as  his  second. 


THE    SPRINGING    UP    OF    THE   SEED.  375 

The  latter  new  ordered  a  carriage  to  a  place  on  the  main 
road  where  the  nearest  path  from  the  grove  joined  it.  It 
was  settled  that  in  case  of  a  dangerous  injury,  he  should 
convey  the  opponent  as  quickly  as  possible  to  the  stage  route 
to  Albany,  from  where  he  could  escape  to  New  York  with 
the  steamboat,  or  to  Ticonderoga,  which  was  nearer,  and 
from  where  a  steamboat  would  take  him  up  Lake  Champlain 
to  Canada.  The  wounded  man,  he  thought,  would  find  ref- 
uge and  rare  in  Mrs.  Curtis'  inn,  the  back  orchard  of  which 
was  only  separated  from  the  grove  by  the  road. 

Alonzo's  burning  impatience  had  brought  the  young  men 
to  the  place  of  combat  some  time  before  ten  o'clock,  the  ap- 
pointed hour.  While  he  paced  up  and  down  impatiently, 
with  glazed  eye  and  forced  calmness,  the  two  others  had 
sat  down  upon  two  stumps,  and  Lorimer  said,  in  a  tone  of 
vexation  : 

"  You  see  he's  not  coming.  And  it  can't  be  wondered  at, 
after  all,  Bob .  From  the  way  in  which  you  went  at  him,  I 
dare  say  the  poor  fellow  thinks  he'll  have  to  fight  with  the 
whole  three  of  us." 

"  I  tell  you,  Xed,"  replied  the  other,  "  the  man  didn't  look 
to  me,  at  all,  as  if  he'd  be  afraid  even  of  three.  If  he  don't 
come,  he's  nothing  but  a  braggart.  We  know  the  way  to  his 
door  now,  and  if  he  withdraws  from  the  cavalier-custom, 
Alonzo  can't  object  to  the  horsewhip  any  more." 

"  I  must  confess,"  replied  Lorimer,  seriously,  and  in  a  low 
voice,  "  I  don't  like  Alorizo  Castleton's  motive  much,  either. 
I  pity  the  poor  boy.  He's  not  himself  any  more.  I  shouldn't 
want  to  have  the  fair  fury,  even  if  she  had  all  the  riches  of  the 
world  in  her  possession." 

"  She  says,"  rejoined  the  other  as  softly,  "  that  the  fellow 
deceived  her.  And  Alonzo  has  set  his  mind  upon  it  that  he 
will  have  her." 

"  Our  young  ladies  certainly  let  themselves  be  deceived 
too  easily  by  these  foreign  adventurers.  Give  them  a  title,  a 


G70  THE   EXILE.-,. 

ribbon  or  star,  a  gay  uniform — and  the  finast  fellow,  whose 
heart  is  swelling  with  the  sense  of  his  freedom,  and  whom  no 
king  has  a  right  to  command  anything,  will  be  unhesitatingly 
sacrificed.  My  bile  always  rises  when  I  go  to  New  York 
and  Philadelphia,  and  meet,  in  Broadway  or  Chestnut  street, 
all  those  trim,  moustachioed  dandies,  so  evidently  in  search 
of  adventures,  flirting  with  our  beauties,  who  so  often  fall 
into  their  traps.  How  many  of  them,  that  talk  of  kings  and 
dukes  as  if  they  had  grown  up  among  them,  have  never 
seen  a  court-saloon  except  when  they  handed  round  refresh- 
ments in  it,  and  never  a  maid  of  honour  but  when  they 
dressed  her  hair  !" 

At  this  moment  Hubert  emerged  from  one  of  the  side 
paths.  He  looked  at  his  watch  when  he  saw  the  three  already 
assembled.  It  was  a  few  minutes  past  ten. 

"  Excuse  me,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  for  being  later  than  I 
intended.  The  walk  was  beyond  my  calculation." 

Lorimer,  whom  a  single  glance  had  convinced  that  he  had 
a  man  of  cultivation  and  noble  manners  before  him,  had 
immediately  risen,  and  approached  him.  "Introduce  me, 
Bob,"  he  whispered  to  Dunning. 

"  Mr.  Hubert,"  said  the  latter,  "  I  have  the  honour  of 
introducing  Mr.  Lorimer  to  you  ;  the  same  generous  gentle- 
man whom  I  mentioned  to  you  yesterday." 

"  My  friend  Castleton  has  told  me,  sir,"  Lorimer  began, 
"  that  you  are  entirely  without  friends  in  this  part  of  the 
country,  and  are  living  among  a  set  of  farmers  who  are 
entirely  unacquainted  with  the  laws  of  honour.  This  made 
it  improbable  that  you  would  find  in  the  neighbourhood  a 
second  in  the  intended  encounter,  and  at  his  request  I  have 
accompanied  him,  to  offer  my  services  to  you  in  this  capa- 
city." 

"  The  feeling  which  induced  you  to  take  this  step,  does 
you  and  Mr.  Castleton  honour,"  replied  Hubert.  "  I  am 
much  obliged  to  yon,  sir.  I  have,  however,  declared  to  Mr. 


THE   SPRINGING   UP   OF   THE   SEED.         377 

Castleton  already  yesterday,  that  I  would  on  no  condition 
fight  with  him." 

Alonzo  started  forward.  "  Quiet,  Alonzo,"  requested 
Lorimer.  "  Aiid  for  what  purpose  did  you  come  here  then, 
sir  ?" 

"  I  came  to  meet  the  challenge  of  this  gentleman,"  an- 
swered Hubert,  pointing  to  Dunning.  "The  insolence  with 
which,  without  the  least  provocation  on  my  part,  he  attacked 
me  yesterday,  at  my  house,  with  threats  and  insults,  makes 
me  inclined  to  give  him  a  trifling  memorial  with  regard  to 
the  respect  which  is  due  from  youths  who  have  hardly  out- 
grown the  age  of  boyhood,  to  older  men.  The  presence  of 
my  wife  prevented  me,  yesterday,  from  doing  it  on  the 
spot." 

"  I  shall  not  run  away  from  you,"  said  Dunning,  with  a 
sneer,  "  in  case  you  have  any  wish  for  a  second  duel.  For 
the  present,  I  am,  according  to  my  promise,  my  cousin's 
second." 

"  And  yet  I  am  only  here  on  your  invitation,  and  as  your 
opponent,"  replied  Hubert,  contemptuously.  "  I  herewith 
declare  to  you  all,  that  I  disapprove  of  and  condemn  the 
practice  of  duelling  most  decidedly,  and  only  take  this  step 
to  guard  myself  and  my  home  from  attacks  similar  to  that  of 
yesterday.  And  to  convince  you,  gentlemen,  that  it  is  neither 
fear  nor  awkwardness  in  the  use  of  weapons,  but  principle 
alone,  that  makes  me  an  enemy  to  the  duel — do  you  see  that 
maple-tree  ?  do  you  see  that  little  dead  branch  which  extends 
westward,  on  the  right  of  the  upper  bough,  between  those 
two  leafy  ones  ? — as  sure  as  I  am  of  that  little  branch,  so  sure 
am  I  of  my  opponent,  if  I  intend  to  hit  him." 

The  eyes  of  the  three  Southerners  had  followed  his  direction 
mechanically.  Hubert  aimed.  One  moment,  and  the  branch 
designated  lay  shattered  upon  the  ground. 

Dunning  changed  colour.  Alonzo,  too,  was  disconcerted 
for  a  moment.  Lorimer  cried,  "That  was  a  master-piece!" 


378  THE   EXILES. 

"  If,  young  gentleman,"  continued  Hubert,  calmly,  turning 
to  Dunning,  "  you  are  willing  to  declare  to  me  now  that  you 
behaved  yesterday  like  a  rude  schoolboy,  and  apologize  for 
the  insult  you  had  designed  for  me,  we  will  break  off  the 
matter  here,  and  I  will  require  no  other  witnesses  than  these 
two  gentlemen." 

Before  Dunning,  nearly  suffocating  with  rage,  and  agitated 
by  the  idea  of  certain  death,  could  answer,  Lorimer  spoke  : 

"  Perhaps,  sir,  you  would  be  willing  to  receive  the  decla- 
ration in  rather  different  words  ?" 

But  Dunning  had  roused  himself  meanwhile,  and  cried, 
"  An  insolent  demand  !  Only  get  through  with  Castleton  ! 
You  will  have  plenty  of  time  afterwards  to  satisfy  your  desire 
for  revenge  on  me  !" 

Alonzo,  more  and  more  heated  and  confused  by  all  that 
was  passing  around  him,  now  quickly  stepped  up  to  Hubert. 
"  And  to  me,"  he  said,  with  suppressed  rage,  "  you  will  not 
account  ?" 

"  Yes,  Alonzo,  I  will  account  to  you  ;  not  with  weapons, 
however,  but  with  words.  You  are  the  preserver  of  my  wife 
— you  are  Virginia's  friend.  I  will  never  fire  at  you.  God 
Almighty  is  my  witness  that  I  never  deceived  Virginia  ;  I 
never  loved  the  unhappy  girl  !  And  how,  Alonzo,  can  I 
engage  in  an  encounter  with  you  ?  I  have  never  offended  you, 
nor  you  me  !  But  even  if  there  were  an  abyss  of  hatred  and 
insult  between  us — how  could  I  fight  with  you  now,  Alouzo  ? 
You  are  not  yourself !  Your  hand  trembles  !  Do  you  not 
see,  Mr.  Lorimer,  that  Mr.  Castleton  is  entirely  unfit  for 
combat?  Quick,  Mr.  Dunning,  take  your  weapons,  if  you 
will  not  be  satisfied  otherwise.  With  Mr.  Castleton  I  will 
not  fight." 

While  Lorimer,  with  some  concern,  was  making  the  neces- 
sary preparations,  Dunning  whispered  to  Alonzo,  "  Can  you 
bear  that,  Castleton;  can  you  submit  to  such  contempt  ?  He 
don't  think  it  worth  while  to  fight  with  you  ;  he  says  you  are 


THE   SPRINGING   UP   OP   THE   SEED.         379 

imlit  I'oi'  it!  Did  you  hear  how  lie  insulted  Virginia? 
II:ivi.Mi't  you  got  any  honour  left  ?" 

Thus  satanically  stung  and  spurred  onward,  Alonzo,  out- 
wardly calm  still,  but  with  inward  rage,  confronted  Hubert 
at  regular  shooting  distance. 

"  Fire,  sir  !"  he  cried.  "  I  am  a  man  of  honour.  You 
have  the  first  shot.  You  are  the  challenged  party  !" 

"  Alonzo,  I  will  not  fire  at  you,"  replied  Hubert,  with  a 
firm  voice  ;  and,  with  rapid  decision,  he  fired  his  second  pistol 
into  the  air. 

At  this,  an  insane  fury  seized  the  unhappy  youth,  and,  with 
his  loaded  pistol  in  his  hand,  he  rushed  up  to  Hubert.  He 
stopped  about  six  paces  from  him.  "  Fire,"  he  cried,  "  or 
you  are  lost  !  Fire,  villain  !  I  say  you  shall  have  the  first 
shot  1" 

Hubert,  with  admirable  presence  of  mind,  quickly  sprang 
on  one  side.  "  Madman  1"  he  exclaimed,  "  would  you  make  a 
murderer  of  me  ?  He  is  raving,  Mr.  Lorimer,  seize  him  ! 
Bring  him  to  himself,  if  you  are  his  friend  1" 

Lorimer  sprang  to  Alonzo,  and,  holding  his  arms  behind 
him,  cried  :  "  Command  yourself,  Alonzo  !  come  to  yourself  I 
No  man  of  honour  acts  thus."  But  with  supernatural  strength, 
the  other,  in  frenzy,  tore  himself  from  his  grasp.  "  Do  you 
despise  me,  traitor,  because  you  think  it  was  you,. after  all, 
who  bore  away  the  prize  ?" — he  shouted,  in  terrible  passion — 
"  die,  then,  because  she  would  have  it  so  !" 

And,  stepping  forward  with  a  quick  turn,  he  fired.  Hu- 
bert staggered,  sank  back  with  an  exclamation  which  was 
unintelligible  to  the  three,  and  lay  lifeless  upon  the  ground. 

Dunning  and  Lorimer  had  seized  the  madman  at  the  mo- 
ment when  the  pistol  went  off.  It  was  too  late.  They  both, 
and  Alonzo  himself,  stood  for  an  instant  as  if  stunned. 

"  Assassin  !"  cried  Lorimer,  letting  go  his  hold,  and  threw 
himself  upon  Hubert.  He  was  the  first  who  regained  his 
composure.  "  Perhaps  he  can  yet  be  saved,"  he  said.  "  Ter- 


380  THE   EXILES. 

riblc,  awful  ! — Take  charge  of  the  insane  man,  Bob  ;  only 
insanity  can  excuse  such  a  deed.  Take  him  away,  out  of 
Vermont.  I  cannot  leave  this  unfortunate  man,  who  fell  a 
victim  to  his  generosity.  Stop  at  the  inn,  and  send  me,  as 
soon  as  possible,  two  strong  men  with  a  litter.  Leave  my 
baggage  there  ;  I  will  stay  with  this  murdered  man." 

Forcibly  dragged  away  by  Dunning,  Alonzo,  only  half- 
conscious,  hastened  through  the  wood  to  the  carriage.  The 
boy  who  drove  it,  frightened  by  the  shots  and  by  Alonzo's 
looks,  stared  at  them  in  mute  terror.  But  Dunning,  spring- 
ing into  the  chaise,  and  drawing  Alonzo  after  him,  snatched 
the  reins  from  his  hands,  and  raced  round  the  nearest  corner, 
up  to  the  tavern. 

The  landlady  had  already  had  the  valises  of  the  three  gen- 
tlemen brought  down  to  the  door.  She  had  discovered  that 
they  had  hired  Mike  Walker's  chaise  again  to-day,  and  Lizzy 
had  heard  them,  in  the  morning,  speak  of  leaving.  She  there- 
fore wished  to  give  them  a  hint  that  she  had  no  desire  to  keep 
them.  She  stood  at  the  door  herself,  partly  to  receive  their 
payment  of  their  bill,  when  they  should  return  from  the 
walk  which  she  imagined  they  were  taking,  partly  to  execute 
Clotilde's  commission. 

The  wind  had  borne  the  sounds  of  the  shots  in  an  opposite 
direction,,  but  their  reverberation  had  been  noticed  by  several 
neighbours,  and  one  and  another,  who  happened  to  have  noth- 
ing to  do,  had  joined  her,  and  just  expressed  their  wonder  as 
to  what  this  could  signify ,  when  the  chaise  came  driving  up  at 
a  furious  rate. 

"  Our  reckoning,  quick  !"  cried  Dunning.  "  Put  on  the 
baggage  ;  Mr.  Lorimer's  valise  remains  here.  He's  going 
to  stay.  What  do  we  owe  you  ?" 

"  A  dollar  apiece,"  answered  Mrs.  Curtis,  drily,  but  when 
her  glance  fell  upon  Castleton's  deathlike  countenance,  she 
asked,  "  What  ails  you,  sir,  are  you  ill  ?" 

"  Mr.  Castleton  is  not  well,"  replied  Dunning,  throwing 


THE   SPRINGING    UP    OF  THE   SEED.         381 

her  a  bank  note;  "we  are  going  right  to  Redfield,  to  the 
doctor's.  Go  on.  But  look  here,  Mrs.  Curtis " 

"  If  that  is  Mr.  Castleton,"  the  landlady  interrupted  him, 
for  the  horses  were  already  starting,  "  here  is  a  letter  for  him 
from  Mrs.  Hubert,  and  a  package." 

Alonzo  started  back,  as  if  stung  by  an  adder.  "  Go  on !" 
he  cried,  in  a  hollow  voice.  Dunning  snatched  the  letter  and 
package  from  Mrs.  Curtis'  hand. 

"  What  ails  the  gentleman  ?"  she  inquired,  with  a  dis- 
trustful look. 

"  Nothing,  he  is  ill.  Arid  now  just  send  two  men  with  a 
litter  and  bedding  to  the  grove  behind  your  orchard.  There 
is  a  wounded  man  there,  who  needs  help." 

The  carriage  was  already  in  motion  when  Dunning  called 
out  these  words  to  her  in  a  loud  voice.  A  stroke  of  the 
whip,  and  he  drove  rapidly  away. 

"  What  has  happened  ?"  asked  the  bystanders,  who  had 
all  heard  Dunning's*  words.  "See  if  they  aren't  a  couple  of 
murderers  ;  they've  killed  the  third  one  ;  that  accounts  for 
the  shots  we  heard!" 

But  the  active  landlady  speedily  despatched  the  necessary 
aid.  Through  the  back-door  of  the  orchard  the  grove  could 
soon  be  reached.  She  remained  at  the  door  until  the  men 
whom  she  had  sent  should  return  with  the  litter.  She  ex- 
pected to  see  the  features  of  the  young  man  who  had  been  her 
guest  the  night  before,  and  a  tear  rose  in  her  eye,  as  she 
thought  of  the  mutability  of  everything  earthly,  and  of  the 
bloody  death  of-  the  youth,  who,  but  a  few  hours  before,  was 
blooming  in  the  fulness  of  health.  But  when  she  recognised 
in  the  ghastly,  bloody  form  which  lay  stretched  on  the  litter, 
convulsively  distorted,  the  husband,  alas!  so  recently  the 
happy  husband,  of  her  young  friend,  she  broke  out  into  loud, 
heartfelt  grief,  and  could  not  tear  her  thoughts  from  the  un- 
happy wife. 

Lorimer,  prostrated  with  sorrow  and  shame  for  his  treach- 


382  THE   EXILES. 

erous  friend,  slowly  walked  by  Hubert's  side.  He  had  bound 
up  the  wouud  with  the  utmost  care.  But  he  soon  saw  that 
there  was  no  hope.  Nevertheless,  he  remained  with  him  un- 
til the  physician  arrived  who  had  been  sent  for  to  Redfield- 
"  I  cannot  see  the  unhappy  young  wife  I"  he  said  ;  "  it  is  a 
terrible  affair  !  I'm  glad  I'm  going  away,  and  will  soon  be 
over  this  !" 

With  this  he  hired  a  wagon  to  take  him  to  Montpelier — 
for  the  stage  between  Woodhill  and  Redfield  only  ran  twice  a 
week — whence  he  would  hasten,  by  the  mail-coach,  to 
Boston,  there  to  embark  in  the  first  steamer  for  Europe. 


CONCLUSION.  383 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

CONCLUSION. 

ON  the  hill  at  Woodhill,  in  the  courtyard  of  her  dwelling, 
under  the  shadow  of  a  venerable  oak,  sat  Clotilde.  Her 
household  duties  were  accomplished.  The  dinner  was  upon 
the  fire,  the  little  table  spread  on  the  veranda.  She  had 
carried  her  work-basket  out  to  her  favourite  seat  under  the 
oak,  to  await,  in  busy  occupation  and  quiet  reflection,  the  re- 
turn of  her  beloved  husband,  whose  image  filled  her  soul  more 
than  ever. 

There  was  a  holy  peace  around  her.  A  soft  breeze  played 
in  the  branches,  there  was  a  pretty  twittering  and  humming 
over  her  head,  by  her  side.  The  lovely  concert  of  rural  na- 
ture lulled  her  soul  to  the  sweetest  dreams.  She  felt  so  calm, 
so  serene.  For  the  boy  from  the  store,  when  he  brought  her 
some  articles  which  she  had  ordered  yesterday,  about  an  hour 
ago,  had  told  her  that  he  had  nearly  been  run  over  on  the  way  to 
the  hill  ;  that  Mike  Walker's  chaise  had  rushed  past  him  with 
the  two  gentlemen  in  it  that  had  come  in  the  stage  from  Red- 
field  the  day  before.  One  of  them  had  the  reins  himself,  and 
was  furiously  whipping  up  the  horse,  so  that  he  had  hardly 
had  time  to  run  out  of  the  way. 

"  And  so  they  are  gone  I"  thought  Clotilde.  "  Thank 
God,  the  danger  is  over  !  Poor  Alonzo  !  How  I  pity  you 
for  the  discovery  which  I  could  not  spare  you  !  And  yet  I 
pity  you  still  more,  that  your  unfortunate  blind  passion  makes 
you  the  tool  of  Virginia's  insane  desire  for  revenge  !  Can  I 
have  understood  him  right  I  Can  it  be  that  she  has  made 


384  THE   EXILES. 

the  ruiii  of  the  man  she  once  loved,  the  condition  of  her  final 
acceptance  of  Alonzo's  love  ?  Unhappy,  terrible  creature  ! 
What  a  new  fearful  example  of  the  force  of  passion  when  it  is 
governed  by  no  beneficial  discipline  of  the  mind  ! 

"  Poor  Virginia  !  I  pity  you  !  But  your  injustice  shall 
trouble  my  quiet  happiness  no  longer  !  Away  with  the 
thought  of  her  ignoble  love  !"  She  passed  her  delicate  hand 
over  her  forehead,  as  if  thus  to  brush  away  everything  which 
could  disturb  her  enjoyment  of  her  sweet  hopes.  With  a 
happy  smile  she  took  from  the  basket  one  piece  after  the  other 
of  her  cut-out  work,  spread  out  the  little  shirts  and  slips  on  her 
lap  with  gentle  delight,  carefujly  folded  them  up  again,  and 
gave  herself  up,  while  she  sewed  industriously,  to  the  flow  of 
her  sweetly-sad  thoughts. 

"  Poor,  beloved  little  one  1"  sh*e  thought,  "  not  in  dear 
Germany  will  you  first  behold  the  light  of  the  world  !  You 
will  be  no  German  boy  or  girl  !  Your  heart  will  not  beat 
more  joyfully  when  you  think  of  the  glorious  Rhine,  or  of 
those  palaces  of  Nature,  the  Alps  of  Salzburg  or  the  Tyrol ! 
It  will  not  swell  proudly  when  you  hear  of  those  of  your 
German  countrymen  in  whom  humanity  has  expanded  to  its 
highest  spiritual  power,  of  Luther,  Leibnitz,  Goethe,  Beetho- 
ven, Humboldt  !  Your  bosom  will  not  threaten  to  burst 
with  indignation  and  love,  when,  at  some  future  time,  you 
think  of  Germany,  lacerated,  dismembered,  bleeding  Ger- 
many, about  whose  fate  its  princes  consult  with  strangers,  on 
whose  formation  strangers  must  decide  !  Oh,  shame  ! 

"  But  you  will  have  a  free,  proud,  united  country,  my 
darling  baby.  A  country  which  gave  shelter  to  your  exiled 
father,  which  your  mother  has  chosen  voluntarily,  which  love 
has  made  her  choose.  And  what  responsibilities  await  her 
now,  in  training  you  up  to  be  a  worthy  member  of  a  republic. 
It  is  only  in  a  democratic  republic  that  the  pure  nature  of 
man  can  fully  develop  itself.  How  frequently  will  the  preju- 
dices which  I  have  inherited,  and  been  educated  to,  trouble 


CONCLUSION.  385 

me,  in  your  education  !  I  shall  have  to  educate  myself  a 
great  deal  yet,  before  I  can  feel  myself  entirely  capacitated  to 
bring  you  up. 

"  But  where  can  Hubert  be  ? — What  joys  await  you, 
dearest  husband  !  And  how  our  hearts  will  be  bound  closer 
and  closer  to  each  other  !  How  our  souls,  in  this  common 
endeavour,  will  become  more  and  more  harmoniously  attuned  I 
I  might  be  afraid  of  the  contrast  between  us" — she  thought 
of  their  different  views  on  the  relation  of  man  to  God — "  if 
you  were  not  Franz  Hubert,  if  I  did  not  love  in  you  all  that 
is  noble,  generous,  liberal.  I  have  heard  my  father  remark 
that  difference  of  religious  opinion  is  of  less  importance  in 
childless  marriages  ;  but  where  the  education  of  beloved 
children  is  one  of  the  aims  of  life  with  both  parties,  and  they 
are  both  conscientious,  the  pure  happiness  of  married  life  is  in 
great  danger  of  being  wrecked  upon  this  difference. 

"  How  true  and  well-remarked  1"  she  added,  thoughtfully. 
"  But — I  still  remember  the  occasion  distinctly — my  father 
spoke  of  the  difference  between  the  Protestant  and  Catholic 
religions.  They  were  discussing  mixed  marriages.  But  the 
difference  between  Hubert's  views  and  mine  has  nothing  to  do 
with  doctrines.  I  am  convinced  that  in  my  dear  husband's 
heart  faith  does  live,  notwithstanding  that  he  wraps  it  around 
so  with  sophistry,  that  at  times  the  offspring  of  Heaven  can- 
not be  recognised.  And  he  has  that  charity,  which,  as  the 
Apostle  teaches  us,  is  still  greater  than  hope  and  faith." 

Thus  the  loving  wife,  with  gentle  hand,  drew  a  veil  over 
the  slight  shades  which  she  would  not  see  where  there  was  so 
much  light.  "  Where  can  Hubert  be  ?"  she  said  once  more. 

She  had  said  so  repeatedly.  She  began  to  be  rather  un- 
easy. She  went  to  the  kitchen,  moved  the  dinner  from  the 
fire,  looked  out  of  the  back-door  towards  the  wood,  and  then 
resumed  her  work.  This  was  repeated  ;  she  was  uneasy 
without  being  anxious.  Hubert  had  often  kept  her  waiting 
for  hours. 

17 


386  THE  EXILES. 

She  had  just  sat  down  again,  when  she  saw  a  chaise  drive 
np  the  hill,  and,  a  moment  after,  enter  the  yard.  She  recog- 
nised Mrs.  Curtis  in  it.  A  gentleman  in  black  accompanied 
her.  It  was  Dr.  Hopkins,  the  minister  of  the  place. 

This  visit  was  something  very  unusual,  Clotilde  went 
cordially  to  meet  them,  without  any  misgiving.  Even  the 
solemn,  serious  mien  of  the  clergyman  did  not  strike  her.  It 
was  habitual  with  him.  Mrs.  Curtis,  too,  like  many  New- 
England  women  who  belong  to  the  church,  even  if  they  are  of 
a  mild  and  cheerful  disposition,  wore  a  serious,  reserved  ex- 
pression on  her  features.  To-day  there  was  a  melancholy 
softness  in  her  face,  that  made  Clotilde  ask  : 

"  What  ails  you,  dear  Mrs.  Curtis  ?  Has  anything  sad 
happened  to  you  ?" 

The  landlady  was  silent.  But  the  minister  began,  with 
solemn  voice  :  "  There  is  no  one  of  us  who  must  not  be  ready 
at  any  time  to  have  the  hand  of  the  Lord  laid  upon  him  in 
affliction." 

Clotilde  gave  him  a  look  of  alarm  and  inquiry.  He  turned 
toward  the  house.  Mrs.  Curtis  took  Clotilde's  hand,  and 
tried  to  lead  her  in-doors.  Her  eyes  were  filled  with  tears. 

"  What  has  happened  ?"  cried  Clotilde,  terrified,  stopping 
in  the  door. 

"You  are  a  Christian,"  said  the  reverend  gentleman, 
taking  her  other  hand.  "  The  Lord  giveth,  and  the  Lord 
taketh  away  !" 

At  this  moment,  a  dull  murmur  of  voices  came  np  the  hill. 
Several  persons  entered  the  yard.  "  Come,  dear  Mrs.  Hu- 
bert," said  her  two  friends  again,  and  attempted  once  more 
to  draw  her  into  the  house.  But  Clotilde,  a  dim,  fearful 
presentiment  flashing  through  her  mind,  tore  herself  forcibly 
from  their  grasp.  The  courtyard  filled  with  people.  Four 
men  brought  in  a  litter.  Beds  were  spread  over  it,  a 
wounded  man  lay  upon  them.  With  a  cry  of  horror  the 
wretched  wife  rushed  towards  it,  and  when  the  men  set 


CONCLUSION.  387 

down  the  litter,  and  she,  ghastly  pale,  had  cast  one  glance 
upon  it,  she  sank  down  fainting  beside  it. 

Hubert  had  returned  to  a  faint  consciousness  under  the 
physician's  care,  and,  in  a  low,  urgent  voice,  had  entreated 
them  to  take  him  "  to  his  wife."  While  he  was  being  con- 
veyed home,  he  had  again  fallen  into  a  deathlike  faint. 

Hours  passed,  and  amid  Clotilde's  burning  tears,  in  her 
anus,  he  awoke  to  life  once  more. 

He  smiled  upon  her  sadly.  "  The  seed  has  sprung  up," 
he  said,  in  a  low  voice.  "  Oh,  forgive  me,  Clotilde  !  I  did 
not  think  to  die  by  a  brother's  hand  !  My  unhappy  father  ! 
Your  God  is  just,  my  Clotilde,  but  he  is  merciful ;  he  accepts 
of  the  son's  life  as  an  atonement  for  the  father's  sin  !" 

He  spoke  unconnectedly,  interrupted  by  the  death-rattle 
in  his  throat.  From  time  to  time  he  moaned  deeply  :  "  Oh, 
Clotilde,  must  I  leave  you  here  alone  ?  Oh,  forgive  me, 
beloved  !  And  must  I  leave  you  and  my  child  ?  Must  I 
leave  you  two  alone  and  helpless  in  a  strange  land  ?" 

His  voice  broke.  But  Clotilde,  a  comforting  angel,  seized, 
as  it  were,  with  a  heavenly  foreboding,  bent  over  him,  and 
whispered  :  "  Die  in  peace,  beloved,  we  shall  soon  follow  you! 
I  have  lost  you  twice,  I  know  I  could  not  do  so  a  third 
time  !" 

He  expired,  and,  with  a  firm,  gentle  hand,  she  closed  his 
breaking  eyes.  Two  hearts  broke  when  he  breathed  his  last. 
Ghastly  pale,  icy  cold,  calm  and  collected,  she  sat  beside  her 
husband's  corpse.  Let  us  drop  a  veil  over  the  heart-rending 
scenes  of  the  succeeding  hours,  the  succeeding  clays  ! — 

The  house  and  yard  had  long  grown  empty  again.  On 
the  meadow  behind  the  house  he  was  buried  ;  thus  it  had 
been  ordered  by  Clotilde  before  her  last  strength  gave  way, 
and  she  sank  into  unconsciousness.  She  wished  him  to  rest 
on  the  spot  which  had  witnessed  their  love,  their  happiness. 
A  hired  nurse  sat  by  her  bedside.  But  she  was  not  desolate 
and  friendless.  Mrs.  Curtis  and  other  good  women  from  the 


388  THE   EXILES. 

village  came  and  went,  took  turns  in  watching  with  her  at 
riight,  and  nursing  her  by  day.  They  would  have  done  so 
to  every  one,  for  in  the  primitive  conditions  of  isolated  New- 
England  life,  the  virtues  of  neighbourly  love  and  a  certain 
patriarchal  family-care  continue  to  prevail  in  a  high  degree. 
How  much  more,  then,  of  love  and  care  was  bestowed  on 
Clotilde,  the  pious,  angelic,  unhappy  wife,  who  had  won 
every  heart  in  the  few  months  of  her  sojourn  among  them  I 
A  deep,  silent  mourning  went  through  the  village,  and  the 
good  women  vied  with  each  other  in  rendering  services  to 
the  desolate  one,  and  aiding  her  in  her  distress. 

In  the  adjoining  room  sat  a  stranger,  a  middle-aged  man, 
in  mourning,  his  head  resting  on  his  hand,  with  every  appear- 
ance of  profound  grief.  His  noble  deportment  and  his  foreign 
English  made  the  simple  women  rather  reserved  towards 
him,  but  the  deep  sorrow  that  spoke  from  his  whole  manner 
touched  them.  He  had  come  on  the  day  on  which  Hubert's 
body  had  been  committed  to  the  grave.  There  it  was  affect- 
ing to  behold  how,  with  ashy  cheeks,  he  approached  the  open 
grave,  and,  with  a  look  of  the  deepest  grief,  threw  a  handful 
of  earth  upon  the  lowered  coffin,  and,  turning  away,  hid  his 
face,  almost  overwhelmed  by  emotion.  Since  that  time  Clo- 
tilde had  lain  in  unconsciousness.  He  had  often  stood  beside 
her  bed,  she  had  often  fixed  her  cold,  dull  gaze  upon  her 
dear  friend,  but  without  recognising  him.  Then  he  would 
turn  away  with  a  bleeding  heart — such  a  look  from  Clotilde, 
who  was  all  life,  all  soul,  he  could  not  endure — would  with- 
draw to  the  next  room,  and  wait  in  sorrowful  impatience  for 
her  to  come  back  to  consciousness. 

The  physician  came  out  of  her  room.  "  Is  she  awake  ?" 
inquired  Sassen,  for  it  was  he. 

"  She  is  awake,"  replied  the  other,  in  a  doubtful  tone, 
"  but  she  is  very  weak." 

"  I  must  see  her,"  said  Sassen,  resolutely.  "  It  will  refresh 
her  to  know  that  I  am  near.  Tell  her  that  the  friend  of  her 


CONCLUSION.  389 

youth,  her  father's  friend,  her  former  guardian,  has  come  here, 
and  that  he  will  and  must  see  her." 

The  doctor,  not  without  a  hope  that  the  presence  of  her 
friend  might  have  a  beneficial  effect  upon  his  patient,  went 
into  the  sick-room  to  prepare  her. 

In  England,  where  he  had  gone  from  Singapore,  in  an 
English  man-of-war,  the  Baron  had  found  the  letters  of  his 
agent,  which  contained  the  intelligence  of  Clotilde's  shipwreck, 
and  the  later  ones  from  Charleston,  in  which  she  herself 
informed  him  of  her  personal  preservation  and  of  her  living 
with  the  Castletons.  But  the  newer  letters,  which  told  him 
of  her  re-union  with  her  betrothed  husband,  had  been  sent  to 
Marseilles,  where  the  Baron,  who  wished  still  to  visit  the 
East,  intended  to  land  on  his  final  return  to  Europe.  He 
was  consequently  not  yet  in  possession  of  them. 

On  the  reception  of  this  direful  intelligence,  he  quickly 
resolved  to  go  to  Charleston,  to  his  beloved  young  friend, 
and  be  her  staff  and  support.  He  undertook  the  voyage 
without  any  pretensions  ;  but  whether,  in  his  generous  friend- 
ship, there  did  not  mingle  something  of  a  bold  hope,  is  a 
question  which  we  will  leave  uninvestigated. 

The  Atlantic  steam-navigation  had  just  commenced.  Two 
short  weeks  brought  him  to  another  hemisphere.  In  New 
York  he  learned  from  Hubert's  business-friends  the  altered 
state  of  things.  His  heart  was  strong.  He  was  noble  enough 
to  rejoice  at  the  happiness  of  his  beloved.  He  was  noble 
enough  to  be  willing  to  witness  this  happiness,  now  that  he 
had  once  come  so  far  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  his  young 
friend  once  more.  He  made  particular  inquiries  concerning 
the  abode  of  the  young  couple,  but  could  gain  only  some 
general  information  about  it,  and  started  for  Vermont,  to 
seek  them  out. 

In  a  village  a  few  stages  behind  Concord,  the  two  mail- 
coaches  which  ran  to  and  fro  from  that  place,  met.  The  table 
was  set  for  the  passengers  of  both.  Sassen's  neighbour  during 


390  THE   EXILES. 

the  meal  was  a  young  gentleman  of  pleasing  exterior,  from 
whose  remarks  he  gathered  that  he  had  left  Montpelier  the 
day  before. 

"Allow  me  to  ask,  sir,"  Sassen  accosted  him,  "  are  you 
acquainted  with  the  country -around  Montpelier  ?" 

"  Not  particularly  ;  I  have  spent  a  short  tune  in  that 
neighbourhood." 

"  Perhaps  you  can  tell  me  where  I  must  leave  the  Mont- 
pelier road  to  get  to  Redfield  ?" 

"  You  will  have  to  take  the  stage  to  Middlebury,"  replied 
the  young  man,  and  named  the  point  from  which  it  went. 
"  You  are  a  stranger,  sir,"  he  continued,  politely  ;  "  that 
little  nest  can  hardly  be  your  journey's  end  ;  perhaps  I  can 
be  of  further  service  to  you." 

"  Much  obliged.  I  wish  to  go  to  Woodhill,  a  village  in 
the  vicinity  of  Redfield." 

The  young  man  changed  colour.  "  You  are  from  Ger- 
many ?"  he  asked.  "  Do  you  intend  to  visit  friends  there, 
sir  r 

"  Do  you  perhaps  know  my  friends  ?" 

"  Mr.  Hubert,  your  friend  !"  cried  the  other,  with  agita- 
tion. 

"  What  about  him,  sir  ?"  asked  the  Baron,  in  alarm.  "  I 
am  the  most  intimate  friend  of  Mrs.  Hubert's  family." 

Lorimer  rose  quickly.  "  Come  with  me,  sir  !"  he  said,  and 
Sassen  silently  followed  him  into  another  room,  for  the  atten- 
tion of  the  other  travellers  was  turned  upon  them. 

"  You  have  come,"  said  Lorimer,  resolutely,  "at  an  evil 
hour  for  yourself,  sir,  but  at  the  most  salutary  moment  for  the 
unhappy  young  lady.  Her  desolate  situation  has  weighed 
heavily  upon  my  mind.  Let  me  tell  you,  in  a  few  words,  what 
a  tragedy  has  just  been  enacted  at  Woodhill.  For  time 
presses  ;  I  see  them  leading  out  the  horses.  Your  country- 
man, with  or  without  guilt,  has  awakened  in  the  heart  of  a 
beautiful  girl  from  one  of  our  first  South  Carolinian  families,  a 


CONCLUSION.  391 

passionate  lov-e.  We  Southerners  are  hot-headed  fellows. 
Her  cousin,  an  old  lover  of  hers,  and  blinded  by  insane 
passion,  has  revenged  her.  He  shot  Hubert  iu  a  duel  yester- 
day morning.  He  murdered  him,  for  he  acted  like  a  madman. 
Hubert  was  a  noble,  generous  man.  My  heart  bleeds  when 
I  think  how  he  has  been  treated  by  one  of  my  countrymen, 
one  of  my  friends  1  Ten  years  of  my  life  I'd  give,"  he  added, 
striking  his  forehead,  "  if  I  could  make  this  terrible  affair 
undone  !  But  I'll  swear  to  it,  my  friend  acted  thus  in  insan- 
ity ;  he  was  not  responsible.  Do  you  go,  sir,  and  console  the 
unhappy  young  widowj  The  happiest  couple  that  ever  lived, 
the  people  say  !  And  the  poor  creature  is  on  the  point  of 
becoming  a  mother,  they  tell  me  !  I  must  go.  Farewell, 
sir  !" 

The  Baroe  had  listened  in  the  deepest  agitation.  "  One 
moment  more,  sir,"  he  said,  with  outward  calmness.  "  What 
has  become  of  the  murderer  ?" 

"  God  knows  !  Unfortunate  youBg  man,  he  will  not  much 
enjoy  the  fruits  of  his  horrible  deed  !  When  he  regains  his 
senses,  he  must  -experience  the  deepest  remorse  that,  instead 
of  killing  Hubert  in  a  duel,  he  has  madly  murdered  him. 
But  I  must  go." 

"  If  there  is  law  in  your  country,"  replied  the  Baron, 
threateningly,  "  the  murderer  shall  not  escape  punishment. 
Where  has  he  gone,  sir  ?"  -  v  . 

Lorimer  extricated  himself  from  his  hold,  for  the  other,  in 
violent  emotion,  had  grasped  his  arm.  "  The  unhappy  man 
is  my  friend,"  he  said.  "  I  tell  y§u;  he  was  not  accountable. 
I,  sir,  I  came  to  be  Hubert's  second,  because  I  knew  him  to 
be  friendless  ;  but  I  pity  the  murderer  more  than  the  victim. 
Go,  sir,  seek  to  console  the  poor  widow.  Your  good  genius 
has  brought  you  here  I" 

This  he  said  in  hastening  from  the  room.  The  stage  was 
ready  and  waiting  for  him. 


392  THE   EXILES. 

Bewildered,  uncertain  what  course  to  pursue,  and  pene- 
trated by  a  deep  grief,  Sassen  remained  behind. 

Now  he  entered  the  sick-room  of  his  unfortunate  young 
friend.  Pale,  as  if  robbed  of  all  vital  power,  she  lay  upon 
her  bed.  The  snowy  sheets  and  pillows  which  surrounded 
her,  were  hardly  whiter  than  that  sweet,  bloodless  face,  than 
those  delicate  hands,  which  were,  in  a  few  days,  wasted 
almost  to  a  shadow.  Entirely  devoid  of  all  vitality  her- 
self, and*  incapable  of  giving  life  as  she  was,  she  had  been 
delivered  of  a  dead  child.  "  Lay  the  dear  pledge  beside  its 
father,"  she  whispered,  "I  shall  soon  follow."  She  had 
requested  repeatedly  that  the  grave  might  not  be  closed. 
Full  of  a  calm,  hopeful  faith,  she  looked  forward  to  her 
certain  dissolution. 

When  her  trusty  friend  entered,  restraining  himself  with 
difficulty,  trembling  with  inward  emotion,  she  turned  her  eye 
upon  him  with  a  faint  smile.  "  God  is  merciful,"  she  mur- 
mured, "  He  does  not  suffer  me  to  die  alone  !  He  has  sent 
me  my  best  earthly  friend  to  close  my  weary  eyes  !" 

And  must  he  see  her  thus  again,  so  crushed  and  faded 
the  flower  of  his  life  !  He  could  hardly  bear  it.  The  strong 
man  almost  broke  down  beneath  that  terrible  grief.  But 
with  his  usual  self-control,  he  laid  his  hand  upon  his  heroic 
breast,  and  forcibly  pressed  back  his  swelling,  bursting  heart. 
The  dying  woman  saw  in  him  only  the  strong,  mild  friend, 
who  had  once  desired  to  be  the  support  of  her  life,  and  now 
had  been  sent  by  God  to  be  her  support  in  death. 

During  two  mournful  iays  of  gradually-failing  conscious- 
ness, a  few  clear  moments  were  with  difficulty  taken  advan- 
tage of,  in  which  the  Baron  received  Clotilde's  last  orders, 
and  was  made  by  her,  through  a  legal  act,  the  unlimited 
administrator  of  all  her  property.  She  made  him  promise 
her  not  to  call  Alonzo  to  account.  "  Unhappy  young 
man  1"  she  said,  "  he  bears  the  punishment  in  his  heart  !" 
Eli  had  confessed  to  her  that  he  had  delivered  the  letter 


CONCLUSION.  393 

too  late.  But  she  thought  her  husband  had  fallen  in  a 
forced  combat. 

Then  she  withdrew  her  thoughts  entirely  from  everything 
earthly.  On  her  friend's  faithful  bosom  she  breathed  out 
her  soul,  that  soul  so  full  of  love  and  weary  unto  death. 
And  thus,  dead,  he  held  her  in  his  arms,  whom  to  call  his 
own  had,  for  many  years,  been  the  one  longing  desire  of  his 
life.  A  few  scalding  tears  dropped  from  that  manly  eye, 
upon  the  brow,  smooth  and  cold  as  marble,  of  the  departed 
one. 

By  the  side  of  her  husband,  of  her  child,  as  she  had 
willed  it,  he  buried  her ;  then  erected  a  plain  marble  monu- 
ment to  the  re-united  husband  and  wife,  planted  cypress- 
trees  around  the  grave,  and  devoted  the  spot  which  had 
witnessed  the  happiness  of  the  lovers,  entirely  to  their 
memory.  A  poor,  honest  family  were  placed  in  the  house, 
who  were  to  watch  faithfully  over  the  burial-spot,  against 
the  free  use  of  the  house  and  garden.  With  business-like 
caution,  the  Baron  put  the  superintendence  of  their  duty 
into  the  hands  of  a  committee,  which  he  formed  of  the 
minister  and  several  other  worthy  men  of  the  place. 

He  travelled  backwards  and  forwards  until  all  was 
arranged,  and  stern  winter  had  already  commenced.  Then, 
with  bleeding  heart,  he  tore  himself  away  from  the  last 
resting-place  of  her  whom  he  had  loved  so  fervently. 
Nature  herself,  as  if  to  sympathize  with  him,  had  just 
spread  its  snow-white  shroud  upon  the  lonely  mound,  and 
no  loving  glance  was  ever  to  fall  upon  it  again,  after  the 
faithful  friend,  often  leaning  back  from  the  carriage,  had 
looked  his  last  upon  it ! 

It  may  be  that  some  traveller,  be  he  a  native  of  the 
exiles'  newly-adopted  country,  or  one  of  their  many  homeless 
German  brethren  and  sisters,  whom  the  pressure  of  the  times 
has  brought  across  the  ocean,  will  one  day  turn  his  wander- 
ing footsteps  to  Vermont,  climb  the  hill  at  Woodhill,  and 


394  THE   EXILES. 

read,  on  the  marble  monument,  the   inscription  in  English 
and  German  : 

"  Here  rest,  while  their  souls  are  united  in  God,  the  earthly  remains 
of  a  loving  husband  and  wife,  Franz  and  Clotilde  Hubert,  and  their 
little  one.  On  the  spot  which  the  sun  of  their  brief  happiness  shone 
upon,  they  now  sleep  in  eternal  peace." 

Then,  while  the  soft  breezes  whisper  among  the  cypress 
boughs,  and  the  distant  waterfall  murmurs  its  endless,  mourn- 
ful lay,  a  deep  sadness  will  come  over  the  feeling  heart,  and 
it  will  be  seized  with  a  consciousness  of  the  mutability  of  all 
earthly  things,  and  perhaps  think,  with  a  heavy  sigh,  of  its 
native  land,  so  far,  far  away,  and  the  desolate  homes  of  all 
the  loved  ones  who  are  sleeping  in  the  "  court  of  peace."* 
And  it  will  ask,  "  Who  may  these  lovers  have  been  ?"  and 
long  to  know  more  of  them. 

The  Baron  employed  this  winter  in  a  tour  through  the 
slave  states.  Although  he  was  not  acquainted  with  the 
particulars  which  had  led  to  the  last  sad  catastrophe,  he  yet 
passed  through  Charleston  without  seeking  out  the  Castleton 
family,  for  he  would  not  touch  the  bandage  which,  with  firm 
hand,  he  had  drawn  around  his  wound.  In  the  spring  he 
visited  New  York  and  Boston,  and  then  left  the  country,  to 
return  to  Europe,  cured,  it  is  true,  of  some  prejudices,  but 
yet  influenced,  on  the  whole,  by  one-sided  impressions,  and 
confirmed  in  his  preconceived  opinions.  For  he  had  not 
looked  at  things  with  the  eye  of  a  cosmopolite,  only  with 
those  of  an  aristocrat.  He  was  totally  incapable  of  loving 
a  country  which,  instead  of  a  Past,  had  only  a  Future.  But 
when,  a  few  years  later,  the  fire,  which  had  long  been 
smouldering,  broke  out  in  France,  when  its  bright  flames 
passed  over  Germany,  and  threatened  finally  to  consume  the 
long-undermined  institutions  of  an  olden  time,  with  which 

*  Frled/tof,  court  of  peace,  a  beautiful  German  name  for  the  grave- 
yard. 


CONCLUSION.  395 

his  soul  was  intergrown — at  this  period  he  thought  seriously 
of  repairing  to  Clotilde's  quiet  resting-place,  and  there, 
where  her  heart  broke  in  love,  wearing  out  his  noble  life  in 
sorrow  and  vexation. 

Edward  Lorimer  was  just  about  to  embark  for  Europe, 
when  Dunning,  in  great  ill-humour,  and  cursing  the  whole 
world,  returned  to  Boston.  He  was  indignant  at  Castleton, 
that  melancholy  weathercock,  as  he  called  him,  that  ungrate- 
ful hypochondriac,  who  let  women's  tears  make  him  as  soft 
as  mush,  and  now,  after  he  had  risked  everything,  and  raced 
over  the  whole  country,  to  have  his  way,  was  going  to  de- 
sert his  beautiful  cousin  after  all.  For  he  was  thinking  of 
going  off  and  taking  the  next  steamer  for  Europe.  There 
was  no  getting  along  with  such  an  over-virtuous  fellow  I  He 
looked  like  a  ghost,  talked  of  nothing  but  fratricide  and  the 
mark  of  Cain,  because  he  had  happened  to  shoot  such  a  vaga- 
bond, a  man-stealer,  whom  he  had  only  meant  to  chastise  ; 
he  called  him,  who  had  helped  him  like  a  brother,  a  devil,  a 
serpent.  In  short,  there  was  no  way  of  living  with  him  any 
longer  !  He,  Dunning,  had  started  off,  and  left  him  to  him- 
self in  New  York. 

Alonzo's  awakening  from  the  terrible  intoxication  of 
mind  and  senses  in  which  he  had  passed  some  time,  had 
been  terrible.  The  deed  was  done,  he  knew  not  how.  His 
soul,  terrified  at  itself,  was  contracted  in  convulsive  rigidity. 
For  a  long  while  he  grasped  Clotilde's  letter  and  package 
tightly  in  his  hand.  He  had  not  the  courage  to  break  the 
seal.  With  a  secret  shudder  he  at  length  put  both  in  his 
pocket.  On  the  steamboat  which  took  him  from  Albany 
to  New  York  he  sat  silent,  and  regardless  of  all  around, 
gazing  into  the  river.  He  avoided  all  recognition  of  ac- 
quaintances. Dunning  pretended  that  he  was  ill,  and  was 
believed. 

It  was  only  at  the  hotel  in  New  York  that  he  opened 
Clotilde's  letter.  "Perhaps,"  he  thought,  "the  unhappy 


396  THE    EXILES. 

woman  has  a  last  request  to  make  of  me.  And  I  will  grant 
it,  though  it  should  cost  my  life  !" 

He  locked  himself  in  his  room  to  read  the  letter.  Hours 
passed,  the  day  went  by,  and  he  did  not  open  the  door  ; 
night  came  ;  the  servants,  Dunning,  the  landlord,  knocked 
in  vain.  "  I  wish  to  be  alone,"  said  a  hollow  voice  inside. 
"  I  want  nothing ;  go  !" 

At  last,  the  next  morning,  the  door  opened.  But  an- 
other man  came  forth.  Despair  sat  upon  his  deathly-pale 
countenance.  His  dark  eyes  burned  with  a  ghastly  fire  in 
deep,  shadowy  hollows.  "  How  you  look  !"  cried  Dunning, 
in  dismay.  "  Do  I  wear  the  mark  of  Cain  upon  my  brow  ?" 
asked  Alonzo,  in  gloomy  calmness. 

He  held  a  letter  in  his  hand.  He  had  written  to  Vir- 
ginia during  the  night.  She  suddenly  stood  before  him  in 
an  altered  form.  He  thought  with  horror  of  the  fulfilment 
of  what  had  for  many  years  been  the  most  fervent  desire  of 
his  life  ;  he  felt  a  horror  of  her  love.  He  had  disclosed  all 
to  her,  had  revealed  to  her,  and  to 'her  alone,  that  she  had 
made  him  a  fratricide.  He  had  written  to  her  that  he  was 
now  convinced  that  Hubert  had  never  loved  her,  that  he  had 
felt  himself  drawn  to  her  at  first  because  he  had  thought  she 
was  his  sister,  her  dead  cousin  Virginia,  and  afterwards  from 
pity,  because  she  had  shown  him  her  love.  In  his  heart  he 
had  ever  been  true  to  Clotilde. 

"  To  a  terrible,  fearful  view/'  he  wrote,  "  my  eyes  have 
been  opened.  You  appear  to  me  like  the  glittering  serpent 
which  lured  the  race  of  man  to  ruin,  and  cheated  it  out  of 
Paradise.  You  are  like  the  infernal  flame  which  promises 
hidden  treasures,  and  only  lights  the  unhappy  wretch  who 
seeks  them,  to  destruction.  You  incited  me  to  revenge,  and 
brought  down  the  most  ancient  curse  uj  on  my  head.  I  can 
see  your  face  no  more.  I  have  a  horror  of  your  beauty,  to 
which  cleaves  my  brother's  blood.  You  have  robbed  my 
unhappy  mother  of  her  only  son,  the  light  of  her  eyes  ;  for 


CONCLUSION.  397 

I  must  become  an  exile  ;  the  mark  of  Cain  is  upon  my  brow ; 
I  can  see  uiy  home  no  more.  The  stones  would  rise  up 
against  me  and  call  me  fratricide  !  I  will  go  beyond  the 
seas,  I  will  roam  from  land  to  land,  to  escape  the  curse 
which  your  thirst  for  revenge,  your  mad  jealousy,  have 
drawn  down  upon  me  !" 

The  next  steamer  took  him  to  England.  Restlessly  he 
wandered  through  Europe,  the  East,  the  half  of  Asia. 
Many  of  his  countrymen,  in  their  travels,  have  already  met 
the  wretched  youth,  who,  without  repose,  without  enjoy- 
ment, accompanied  only  by  a  servant,  hastens  from  city  to 
city,  from  land  to  land,  and,  with  the  valet  de  place  by  his 
side,  conscientiously  goes  through  the  whole  list  of  sights, 
etc.,  but  seems  to  see  only  with  his  eye,  to  hear  only  with 
his  ear,  while  his  suffering  soul  broods  in  darkness.  He 
attaches  himself  to  no  one  —  no  one  joins  him  ;  for  his 
mysterious,  gloomy  mien  repels  every  one,  and  the  sight  of 
him  sends  a  secret  shudder  through  many  a  tender  heart, 
which  thinks,  with  a  sigh :  "  Unfortunate  man  1  He  looks 
as  if  he  had  committed  a  crime  !" 

How  many  of  his  countrymen  now  make  use  of  the  rapid 
intercourse  by  means  of  steamers  and  propellers,  to  see  the 
laud  of  their  forefathers,  and  make  the  great  European 
tour  !  The  winter  succeeding  the  one  which  had  spread  its 
sheet  of  snow  over  the  grave  at  Woodhill,  a  charming 
American  shone  in  the  highest  salons  of  Paris,  and  the 
most  fashionable  circles  had  much  to  say  about  "  la  belle 
Americalne "  and  her  "  sjnrituelles^  eccentricities,  and 
amiable  coquetries.  The  Southern  fire  in  her  eye  kindled 
the  hearts  of  all  the  men  ;  her  piquant  conversation  kept 
up  the  flame.  Her  loving  husband,  who  hung  upon  her 
looks,  was  like  her  shadow,  but  just  because  she  always  kept 
him,  like  her  shadow,  by  her  side,  and,  surrounded  by  a 
crowd  of  admirers,  treated  him  more  like  a  valet  than  like 
her  husband,  she  secured  her  reputation,  in  spite  of  a  thou- 


398  THE   EXILES. 

sand  coquetries,  but  no  intrigues.  Rich,  beautiful,  sought 
by  all,  surrounded  by  all  the  refinements  of  luxury  and  art, 
adored  by  her  husband  —  who  would  not  have  called  the 
lovely  American  Fortune's  favourite  child  ?  And,  indeed, 
the  world  never  knew  the  enchanting  stranger  otherwise 
than  laughing,  giving  pleasure,  and  enjoying. 

And  yet  Phyllis,  the  black  waiting-maid,  might  have  told 
much  of  the  sleepless  nights  of  her  mistress,  and  how  she 
was  inwardly  bruised  and  ill,  and  would  often  weep  for  hours 
together,  and  wring  her  hands,  and  wish  herself  dead.  And 
the  husband  ?•  How  carefully  did  he  avoid  being  alone  with 
his  beautiful  wife  !  How  did  he  seek  to  divert  her  mind  and 
keep  her  in  good  humour,  and,  by  rich  presents  and  constant 
yielding  to  her  wishes,  endeavour  to  keep  her  out  of  that 
unhappy  state  of  mind  whose  victim  he,  and  only  he,  had  al- 
ways to  be  ! 

A  few  months  after  Virginia  had  received  her  unfortu- 
nate cousin's  letter,  she  had  bestowed  her  hand  upon  Mr. 
John  Carroll,  a  wealthy  planter  from  Tennessee.  Her  father, 
indignant  at  Alonzo's  sudden  departure  for  Europe,  which  was 
totally  incomprehensible  to  him,  had  promoted  the  connection, 
although,  by  it,  his  favourite  plan  was  destroyed.  John 
Carroll,  a  plain,  worthy  man,  had  applied  for  the  post  of 
ambassador  to  Naples  ;  for,  being  out  of  health,  he  hoped 
that  the  Italian  climate  would  benefit  him.  He  could  speak 
neither  French  nor  Italian — but  he  had  a  secretary  who  could 
understand  the  former  if  it  was  not  spoken  too  quickly,  and 
his  beautiful  wife  was  familiar  with  both  languages.  Through 
friends  and  connections,  he  had  succeeded  in  obtaining  the 
appointment,  and  as,  often,  one  good  fortune  joins  another, 
and  to  him  who  hath,  more  is  given,  it  was  to  this  appoint- 
ment that  he  owed  the  hand  of  the  admired  Miss  Castleton. 

Virginia  had  but  little  regard  for  her  husband,  for  he  was 
small  in  stature,  in  weak  health,  without  particular  mental 
endowments,  and  her  obedient  servant  in  everything.  As  an 


CONCLUSION.  399 

American  ambassador  in  Naples  has  not  much  important 
business  besides  spending  his  annual  salary  of  nine  thousand 
dollars,  it  was  an  easy  matter  for  her,  after  she  had  spent  a 
few  weeks  in  Naples,  and  visited  Rome,  Florence  and  Venice, 
to  induce  her  husband  to  spend  the  greater  part  of  the  year 
in  Paris.  For  the  society  in  which  she  shone  there  was  far 
more  interesting  to  her,  and  drew  her  more  out  of  her  un- 
happy self,  than  all  the  antiques  and  all  the  paintings  of  the 
world.  Mr.  Carroll  proposed  a  trip  to  Germany ;  but  this 
she  would  in  no  way  hear  of.  She  hated  the  Germans,  and 
had  banished  all  German  books  from  her  library.  In  a  whirl 
of  dissipation  the  unhappy  young  creature  hoped  to  drown 
the  voice  of  her  conscience  and  the  claims  of  a  heart  thirst- 
ing, famishing  for  love. 

With  a  sort  of  passionate  longing  she  thought  of  her 
sister  Sarah,  whom  she  called  her  saint.  When,  though  very 
rarely,  a'letter  arrived  from  this  faithful  servant  of  God,  who 
continued  untiringly  to  win  souls  to  Him  in  distant  Africa,  it 
gave  Virginia  a  day  of  rejoicing.  Such  a  letter  always 
kindled  a  small,  quiet  light  in  her  heart,  but  it  was  completely 
outshone  by  the  thousand  brilliant  lights  of  her  worldly 
pleasures. 

Yet  she  liked  to  speak  of  her  pious  sister  to  her  free- 
thinking  friends,  and  could  defend  religion  to  the  Russian 
Count  Stroyef,  and  the  Greek  Prince  Cantacuczeno,  the  two 
most  distinguished  of  her  admirers,  with  so  fascinating  a  zeal, 
that  she  soon  received  the  name  of  "  la  belle  puri.laine." 
Those  who  knew  Virginia  better,  however,  were  well  aware 
that  if  she  felt  drawn  to  any  church,  it  was  the  Catholic. 
To  Phyllis,  at  least,  she  often,  when  she  came  home  from  one 
of  her  brilliant  assemblies,  and  felt  very  miserable,  expressed 
the  wish  that  she  had  been  born  in  a  Catholic  country,  and 
could  weep  out  her  life  in  a  convent. 

Who  can  tell  what  may  happen,  when  the  autumn  of  life 
despoils  the  young  rose  of  its  leaves,  and  the  world,  after  it 


400  THE  EXILES. 

has  ceased  to  pay  her  homage,  has  lost  its  splendour  for  her  ! 
Perchance  she  will  then,  by  a  formal  change  of  faith,  quiet 
her  torturing  conscience,  and  thus  conciliate  the  angry  spirit 
of  her  grandmother,  the  stern  Lucia  Losada,  whose  fiery 
blood  glows  in  her  veins  1 


THE    END. 


*:* 


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